


Song of the Sea

by Hoodedscarlet



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Clubbing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Sexual References, slight body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:25:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodedscarlet/pseuds/Hoodedscarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life had never been easy for Michael, a merman who shunned from his own species had to learn to survive on his own. The ocean is a lonely place for even the bravest of souls, so it was no wonder that Michael was drawn to the shore and to the humans that populated it to try and combat the overwhelming loneliness. But when five men started to work their way into his life, Michael is faced with decisions he doesn't know how to face. How does he tell them that he's a creature that in all other instances would eat them without a second thought?  How does he open up to them in a way he hasn't even been able to do with himself?</p><p>The sea is a kind but cruel mistress - and Michael might not be the one who makes the decision in the end...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Also know as 'I'm not on hiatus, i just thought writing a 25k word fic was a great idea and totally wouldn't take me three months'.

Where the fuck had it all gone wrong?  
  
  
They were the only words on Michael’s mind as his fingers scrambled at the porcelain around him, scittering uselessly at the smooth surface of the bathtub. He could feel his gills fluttering uselessly on his neck, the ones on his sides barely doing any better as the water just licked at the pair above his hips. His legs - could he really call them ‘legs’ right now? - had gone a sickly shade of blue green, patches of skin gone scaly as the limbs fused together. The process was pretty much complete from his waist down to his shins, but from there the skin stretched awkwardly across the gap. His feet were a horrendous mess all on their own, the toes half stretched into the fin like webbing but still retaining the foot like shape and colouration and resulting in a horrendous in between that made Michael sick just looking at it,

  
It hurt. Fuck, it hurt so much, trapped in the middle of this transformation he didn't even know he would have to go through, had desperately hoped he wouldn’t go through and the worst part was that he couldn't even scream. He could barely even whimper because his boyfriends were in the next room. He couldn't give himself away, even as much as he wanted to cry and shout and scratch  at his skin until it went raw because there wasn't enough water coming out of the god damn tap and he felt like he was burning, because they were in the next room and they couldn’t know..

 

Why had he agreed to this? Why had he thought this was even vaguely a good idea? He had enough trouble explaining to the other five why he ate so few vegetables, why he didn't like to go swimming and if they saw him like this who knew what they would do? He didn't want to find out - he didn't want know what the disgust of seeing his true form would look like on their faces. He didn't want to know the anger on Geoff's face for putting the in danger, the betrayal on Ryan's, the horror on Gavin's...

 

"Michael, you doing alright in there buddy? You've been in there for an hour."

 

Shit. Shitshitshit-

 

"I'm fine Geoff-" he tried to say, but the words were rasped out and he couldn't hold back the shout of pain as a wave of it racked his body, making him shudder and make more precious water splash out of the bath why the fuck would he do that-

 

"Michael?!" He asked and the shock was evident in his voice, worry unmistakable. He knocked on the door; michael flinched with each rap on the wood. "Are you okay?"

 

"Fine!" Michael said, breath whistling through too sharp teeth. "Dandy. The absolute fucking best."

 

"You don't sound it." Geoff said. "You been looking like shit all day and now you're touching water for the very first time since I've met you. Something's wrong, why don't you just let me in-"

 

"NO." Michael yelled, fear making his voice tremble as his body shook. "I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine."

 

"Michael, please." And he could hear Ryan now -fuck not him too- talking to him through the crack in the door and he whimpered again though not just out of pain. "Michael we just want to help."

 

"You can't help." He bit back, and he forced back the tears because he was fine he was fine he was fine he was fine-

 

"Was it something you ate?”

 

“Please, just go away.” Michael said. He was pretty sure he could hear the murmuring of his other four boyfriends; he couldn’t be sure though because he was at a point where if he was hallucinating he wouldn’t even be surprised.  
  
  
  
“Michael, _please_.”  
  


How the fuck had it gone so wrong?  


-x-  
  
Michael had lived his whole life in the ocean. He knew the rock of the sea like he knew the back of his hand, the currents like he knew his own name; he was lulled to sleep almost every night by the give-take of the current around him and its steady rhythm echoed the steady thump-thump of his heart. Michael had lived his whole life in the ocean and never had he felt the rock mirrored in another person before.  
  
  
The club was dark and loud, the smell of sweat and drugs and alcohols Michael wasn’t even sure the names of mixed into a heady scent and not for the first time he was reminded of why he liked places like this - the closeness of bodies, grinding and chasing the carnal pleasures few could resist in an atmosphere like this. The bar was as busy as the dance floor and a man like him was nothing more than a face in the crowd; he liked it that way. Sometimes he’d accept a dance from a man or two, lure them in with hooded eyes and come-hither fingers and delight in his own way the way he could twist them around his little finger. There were women too, blondes and brunettes and redheads, all so pretty, but from the moment Michael opened his mouth they were irrevocably in love with him. To them he was a god with red curls and short stature and there was nothing organic about that relationship - no challenge, only hollowness and an ugly reminded of what he was capable of (what was in his genes, what he was made to do).  
  
  
Tonight had been the same - he had brought himself a drink that was such a bright shade of neon he worried for his health as he downed it before moving into the crowd. He could feel eyes on his body, on the jeans tight on his hips and his shirt only marginally less so. It was an intoxicating feeling stronger than any drink and perhaps if they knew they would goad him for playing into stereotypes, of the mermaid only out hunting for the adoring gaze of whoever would give it but they didn’t know. (God knows what they would do if they did - a few unkind words were far from the reality he’d face). The night was his and he let his hips roll slow, eyes close as the beat vibrated through his body and sunk into his bones and not for the first time he admired the way that this place reminded him so much of the ocean despite its claustrophobic ways. Not only that, it filled a hole in him that he couldn’t fill himself - to be _with_ people.  
  
  
“Excuse me luv, got time for a dance?”  
  
  
And when Michael opened his eyes he was face to face with a man with crazy hair and a crazier glint to his eyes, his accent so deliciously _foreign_ and Michael was quick to slip into character and slide a finger up his chest. He flicked each button as he went up - he could feel Gavin’s breath catching each time and he practically _purred_ at his reaction.  
  
  
“Only if you make it worth my time.”  
  
  
The stranger only smiled at that, a smirk that held promise of something more as his hands came to settle on Michael’s hips. The digits were long and slender but the grip was strong and as the song changed to something thick with bass and reeking of seduction the other man only used his leverage to pull Michael in closer, to spin him around so he was pressed firm against his back and to murmur something Michael just missed.  


They danced slow and dirty; Michael started with an innocent swing to his hips but the stranger obviously had other plans. The grip on his hips only got tighter - pleasantly so - as he started grinding, purring into Michael’s ear in a way that made arousal shoot straight down his spine.  
  
  
And suddenly Michael realized it wasn’t just the stranger’s words that had him like this; his body moved with a fluidity that Michael had never encountered outside the sea herself. But this wasn’t the peaceful sort that lulled him to sleep - this rhythm, the roll to his body was corrupt and dirty and Michael _loved_ it. It didn’t take long for him to start grinding back, pressing into the strangers touch and revelling in the feel of a body pressed against his own. They were all but fucking on the dance floor and Michael’s breath was a jackrabbit in his throat and he could barely breathe, barely breathe and it was incredible. The shorter man’s head lulled back, resting on the shoulder behind him as he panted and he wish he knew this guys _name-_  
  
  
“So, did I?”

  
  
Michael had to take a moment to realize that the song had finished, that the man was looking at him with a quirked eyebrow and he had been caught up in the dance for so long he’d forgotten the question and was two seconds off forgetting his own name.

  
  
“Huh?” He replied, eloquently as he turned back to be face to face with the Brit, straightening his glasses. The stranger only laughed - the only reason that Michael didn’t feel completely humiliated was because despite their dim surroundings he could see the flush that had risen in his cheeks and his pants looked a _lot_ tighter than they should be around the crotch.  
  
  
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” He replied, a breathless tone to his voice as he laughed and it made Michael smile in return. “What’s your name?”  
  
  
“Michael, you?”  
  
  
“Gavin.” And the name rolled off his tongue and Michael knew that name was going to haunt his mind. “Do you come here often, Michael?” he purred the words, thick like molasses and it made Michael shiver.  
  
  
"I do." He replied, not trusting his voice as Gavin trailed a hand down his arm, down his bare, sensitive which turned to goose flesh in the wake of Gavin's hand.  
  
  
"Well, luv, maybe we'll meet again."  
  
  
And before Michael could ask for specifications, for clarification, for anything Gavin was gone. He was left in the mass of swaying bodies with his breath hitched and jeans too tight and despite searching for the next hour the Brit was nowhere to be found. The bastard had wanted to make himself scarce, to leave him wanting and aching for that foreign touch. And when Michael finally found his release, away from the club and into his hand he couldn't help but curse that somebody else out there had used his own tricks against him.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Jack and Ryan had said they'd only be a minute.  
  
  
The six of them had decided that tonight they were going to have a quiet night in - play some Mario Kart, indulge in some of Geoff's cooking, maybe make out a little.  
  
  
...Well, there was no such thing as a quiet night in with the six of them - six people already set the tone of that there was going to be a certain amount of noise around the house. Not to mention that between him, Gavin and Ray any hope for peace and quiet was essentially banished.  
  
  
Geoff, in his rush to prepare food for the six of them however had forgotten to buy snacks for them all and so here they were, the two older men adamantly arguing whether everybody wanted Cheetos or Doritos. Ryan was arguing for Doritos, claiming that getting some dip alongside them and everybody would love them for it. Jack, meanwhile was arguing that nobody would be able to be bothered with dip and it would probably end up all over the couch again so why not just get Cheetos? Michael had suggested getting one of each but the resounding answer had been 'well yeah, but-'. He would have argued further too, had it not been for the discomfort.

 

It had started as an itching, a mild one that had started as soon as they'd walked into the corner store. It was easily ignorable, if irritating - if they had literally gone in and out like Ryan and Jack had claimed Michael wouldn't have thought any more of it. But the longer they stood around, the more it was bothering him, he was starting to become uncomfortable in his own skin, rubbing at his neck where the scar lines of his gills lay and watching the hand of the clock tick around and around.

 

When it finally hit him, it hit him hard. Suddenly it wasn't just itching, it was burning and Michael had to hold in a whimper of pain as it struck at him, making his vision blur as it attacked his eyes, his skin, his lungs and he couldn't think straight. All he knew to do was run, run out the shop into the dusk because it felt like the very air was tearing him apart. He barely heard the yell of his name after him, his bare feet thumped against the pavement and he had never had to run so fast in his life. He couldn't even think about the fact that he'd left his two boyfriends in the dust, although that was somewhat understandable considering that he felt like ripping off the first ten layers of his skin as they were eaten through.

 

When he reached the beach front he had never so glad that his boyfriends live so close to the sea, never been more glad it was full tide and this main pier was deserted in the evenings.

 

When he dived into the water it was like a healing balm; his tears leaked into the water as his body continued to try and purge the acid from his system, out of his eyes and lungs as he started to cough and hack into the water that was quickly clouding around him with the poison he'd had to endure. That was where he stayed that night - instead of cuddled up to Ray and Geoff on the couch and getting the shit beaten out of him at video games he spent it curled up at the bottom of the bay, whimpering as waves of pain coursed through him as his body tried desperately to cleanse itself, to rid itself of the poison Michael hadn’t even known was there. And all that time he was thinking of the other five - how much had he worried them? Were they out looking for him? Or had they just forgotten about him entirely, content to spend the evening without him? The later made him muffle another sob into the crook of his arm - that time he wasn't quite sure whether it was from physical or emotional pain.

 

It wasn’t until early morning he was finally able to drag himself out of the water, avoiding an old couple on the beach as he made the run to his shack of a house to pull on a change of clothes and cursing that he’d lost another set to the surf. Even if he could find them they’d be beyond saving - the shirt torn to pieces in his desperate attempt to get out of it, the shorts ripped in two by his lower half violently morphing and forcing the foreign material away from his body. He resisted the urge to just fall into bed, to succomb to the need coursing through his body to rest and heal. Instead he headed outside under the cover of early morn, made his way through the few blocks between his place and his boyfriends’, up the small hill to where their modest house sat perched. There was still a light in the door, and it had confused Michael until a very tired, but very relieved Ryan came out to meet him.

 

“Why the fuck aren’t you asleep?” Michael demanded, voice weak despite himself.  
  
  
“You think my insomnia’s going to get any better when one of my _boyfriends_ just decides to disappear on me?” Ryan said, and the tone was supposed to be joking but his voice broke at the end of his statement and he just looked so broken and it made a stab of guilt a mile wide wedge into his gut. He stuttered out a lie about eating something bad and getting food poisoning (with the truth burning on his tongue). Thankfully he looked more than a little bit like shit and Ryan bought the lie hook line and sinker - Michael had never fallen asleep so fast.

 

(He knew he should have looked in the window, should have spotted the sign that later he could see so plainly. But then again he didn’t know that the shopkeeper would enlist the help of finely sprayed _acid_ to keep away any potential mermaids that would wander into the store. It was near invisible, dispersed by the same automatic sprayer that would dose out fly spray and it was a disturbingly good tactic - their skin, so sensitive would react so quickly, followed by eyes, lungs, the nasal cavity. It was a cruel, painfully slow tactic to ‘discourage’ mermaids and Michael had been lucky to frequent human society for as long as he did without running into one of those horrid machines.

 

Then again, it wasn’t like anybody would connect the dots when it came to him, anyway - they were looking for mer _maids_ , after all.)

 

-x-

 

“You look a little out of place in a place like this.”

 

“Well, honestly I wasn’t supposed to be here.” The stranger replied, running a hand through his blond hair. He certainly could have had Michael fooled - the way that his jeans clung to his hips, the way his shirt stretched just so across his chest.  
He was dressed to impress - and Michael was very much so.

 

"Eh, I find it hard to believe you."

 

"Got stuck as the sober driver because I'm the only one that actually has a licence, and I'm not really one for the clubbing scene. So here I am." Ryan said, laughing and with the new knowledge Michael could see why he had retreated to the bar. There was a tenseness to his shoulders, a nervous edge to the way his hands played around the rim of his diet coke can that was only just beginning to ease. It was almost endearing - which was a strange way to describe a man who looked like he'd be more than able to shove Michael up against a wall and fuck him senseless.

 

"Well, sounds like you're out with a couple of assholes." Michael replied with a smile.

 

"And I'm dating them." Ryan said, shaking his head with a smile on his lips. "Sometimes I wonder how I got myself into this mess."

 

That made Michael pause for thought - usually a statement like that would send all the red flags in his head up. Taken men were understandably terrible, terrible targets for his advances, and that was his favorite part of the night; watching a man's eyes glaze over, their actions become more and more uninhibited as they clung to him like an addict to their drug of choice as he spun his web. But there was something about Ryan that was... Inviting? He wasn't sure what the right word was to describe the alien way that he just wanted to talk with Ryan but it was the closest he could get. (Well, the urge to get Ryan to shove him up against the wall was still there, but the instinct was... Dampened more than usual.)

 

"Is there a problem?"

 

"What? No!" Michael said, belatedly realising he'd been silent for just a bit too long, seeing the tenseness coming back to Ryan's features as he went to guard himself again. "Its just pretty unusual to run across a guy that has more than one boyfriend. Honestly I’m kind of jealous!” He could see the anxiety leak from Ryan’s shoulders again as he smiled, a silent _thank god you're not an asshole._

 

“Yeah, its amazing." He agreed. "It's been working out great for us, so I can't really complain... I'm surprised you're jealous though."

 

"Why?"

 

"Well it's not really a conventional relationship, is it? I mean, dating a man alone is already tabooish as it is- you know what?" Ryan said, draining the rest of his drink before clacking the glass to the table. "This is far too serious a topic for a place like this and I can barely hear myself think let alone really hold a conversation. You want to go get a coffee?" The question made something Michael couldn’t quite recognise flutter in his stomach.

 

“Sure.” Michael said, and there wasn’t any way that he could conceal the smile on his face as he said so. “You know anywhere?”

 

“Sure do.” Ryan said, standing from the bar. The two of them made their way through the crowd, Ryan flicking a text off to one of his boyfriends - a guy called ‘Ray’ which Ryan assured Michael was a piece of shit but would probably get the message fastest. After that the music was too loud to even get in a word edgeway, and it was hard enough getting through the pulsating crowd. Michael could feel the familiar pull, back into the crowd with its ocean like rock and the company that he always so desperately craved but for the first time he resisted. He resisted and pushed it away because Ryan wasn’t a man to be wrapped around his little finger. He was a taken man but there was still something about him that drew Michael in - maybe it was the impossible blue of his eyes that looked like he could dive into it, or the peaceful nature that surrounded him that almost hid the cheeky smirk tugging at his lips, the calm before the storm.

 

Michael was perfectly aware of how fucking lovestruck he sounded right now - he was about five seconds away from calling them ‘cerulean pools’ or something equally sappy. But he was a _man_. He was allowed to get sappy every now and then, even if it was for a guy that he’d only just met and yet seemed to pay more attention to him than any other person that seemed to look his way. Not the sex-fueled nightclub encounters, not the entranced looks of woman as he spoke to them for the first time and pulled them under… That last thought alone disgusted him enough to shock him out of his head to a slightly concerned Ryan looking at him.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Oh, uh, I’m fine!” Michael said, fumbling for words. “I just tend to get lost in my head sometimes?” The statement came out as more of a question than anything and it made Ryan smile.

 

“Don’t get out often?” He teased. _You wouldn’t believe it_ Michael thought, but instead he only humoured the statement with a shrug, gesturing for Ryan to lead the way.

 

Quickly, the two men fell into an easy back and forward. The blonde had a humble wit about him that made bantering as easy as breathing and Michael was glad for once he wasn't feeling the beat tonight because he got to talk to this gorgeous man in the warmth of a late night coffee shop. Of course, it wasn’t that easy - while liked to talk, lack of practise made the words clumsy on his tongue and being away from the noise of the club only made it that much more obvious that it wasn't the loud music tripping him up. He was half expecting Ryan to brush him off - but to his delight the man was listening to his five cents whenever he had it to offer.

 

"So what do you do during the day anyway?" Ryan asked over the rim of his coffee, black like his soul (Apparently. Michael was starting to think maybe this guy wasn't as serious as he'd first thought).

 

"Uh." Michael said, scrambling for an excuse because for some reason he didn't think 'nothing because I'm a mythological creature and I do what I want' was going to cut it. "I'm a fisherman." He settled on, since in all actuality it wasn't as far from the truth as it could be "You know. I fish. For people."

 

"Sure you do." Ryan said, raising an eyebrow even as his grin got wider.

 

"Well, fuck you too." Michael replied "You don't see me questioning every fucking thing you say."

 

"You're not questioning a man who has several partners and takes men out for coffee mere hours after meeting them?"

 

"No? Why the fuck should I?" Ryan just laughed at that, shaking his head as he buried his face into his hand.

 

"You're a weird one Michael. It a nice change though, and I guess in your defense you do swear like a sailor."

 

"Damn straight I do."

 

"Hey, Ry-bread!"

 

And fuck him sideways, Michael turned around to see two men walking towards them and Michael wasn't sure he'd ever forget that Brit's face. Of course Ryan would be dating Gavin, and of course his other boyfriend would be equally good looking.

 

"Gavin?!" Michael said, and holy shit he was going red for so many reasons right now.

 

"Michael!" In addition to the surprise there was a playfulness to Gavin's tone that hadn't been there before. He tugged on Ray shirt, pointing at Michael excitedly like he was a little kid. "Ray, this is the guy I was talking about!"

 

"You managed to get seduced by Gavin?" The darker haired man said,, the question directed at Michael and he only managed to half realised that it was an incredulous look on the Puerto Rican's features. In his defense though, memories of said night were coming back to him in full force and with Ray very much living up to the standard of his partners, and Ryan just being unfairly attractive, his jeans were far too tight now and his resolve was quickly crumbling.

 

"Shit! I-ah- have to go-"

 

"Really?" Ryan said, and he almost sounded disappointed and considering he was two seconds away from jumping all three of them guilting him to stay was the last thing he needed right now - the mermaid biology in him which was crooning at him to mark up and fuck the men in front of him _really_ didn't need an excuse to do just that.

 

"Yeah, it's really late and I've got to eat still and feed the dog-" he didn't even have a dog what the fuck "-so it's probably better I leave you three to do whatever the hell you guys do at two in the morning and get back."

 

"Wait a second." Ryan said, holding a hand up as Michael wormed his way out of the booth. He pulled a pen out of his pocket - what kind of nerd had a pen in his pocket at a nightclub anyway? -and scribbled down a number. "If you're around, give us a call. I'd love to introduce you to Geoff and Jack too."

 

"There's more of you?!" Oh god he was so screwed.

 

"Last ones, I promise." Ryan replied, smiling and if Michael were a more careful man he’d be suspicious of that smile, so friendly after such short a time. But Michael wasn’t - he couldn’t be after craving contact for so long and each interaction being held and admired so delicately in his mind’s eye and Ryan seemed to listen to him and humour him beyond when most would give up.

 

“I’ll call you when I can.” Michael said, codeword for _‘if I can stop being a fucking loser and work up the courage’_ as he finally pulled himself away from the booth, making his way out of the coffee shop to a chorus of goodbyes. He took a few steps before curiosity overwhelmed him; he turned to see Gavin shuffling into the seat beside Ryan, swinging his arms around the man’s neck and pressing a kissing to his cheek that Ryan leaned into just so while Ray slid into the booth opposite them with a thinly disguised adoring look on his face. Michael looked down at the napkin in his hand, smoothed a thumb over the number scrawled there. His reading level wasn’t exactly the best, but running his thumb along the words he could make out it out;‘ _Ryan Haywood (but you can get to everybody through me)_ ’ He sighed, folding up the napkin neatly to hold it in a tight fist in a subconscious effort not to lose the paper that was in a way more valuable than gold.

 

What had he gotten himself into?

 

-x-

 

Mermaids had been around for centuries, women of the waters that lived and breathed the pulse of the sea. They looked as wild as they were - no net, cage, canal could contain them and they would ride the ocean waters like the horses that would crest the water, richly coloured tails shimmering in the light of the unfiltered sun unmarred by the pollution that coated and covered the mainland.

 

But more than their appearance they were known for their voices; the haunting, enticing words that would ensnare men from the first word. The sound that would be the last a man ever heard as their wills were molded, their eyes glazed over as all they wanted was more. As their ships inexplicitly turned towards the rocks to drag their bellies across them and split them open like ripe fruit. Even as their safety sunk beneath them the men would remain calm, lulled by the words of safety that the wild eyed women would whisper to them as the water rose up higher and higher, as their clothes began to drag them under as they were pulled into the embrace of the women overseeing their doom. The men didn’t notice the way the ways the women's eyes flashed into something so much more feral, the way their teeth separated and sharpened and their songs shifted from songs of safety to words of praise to the Gods of the sea. Even as they took their first bite and the sea was stained red with their blood they would only sigh; only look up at their captors with adoration as the light faded from their eyes. Perhaps if they were lucky they’d get one final kiss goodnight,

 

The fact of the matter was Michael shouldn’t exist.

 

He was a glitch in the system, a broken link and he shouldn't be here - whenever Michael sang the ships would pass, the men onboard not giving him a second glance. His words didn’t seem to register in the same way; sure there were comments on the beauty of his voice, men saying with a smile on their faces that it sounded like the ocean was singing to them and not quite pinpointing it was an actual physical creature actually singing. But the dullness didn’t come across in their eyes, their bodies didn’t relax into the sway of his rhythm; they sailed off into the distance and every time it made scream because _why?_ Why couldn’t he do what the rest of his kind could so easily?

 

Other mermaids avoided him of course - he was broken, he shouldn't exist because they were mer _maids_ after all. Who wanted to lug around a freak who couldn’t even catch his own food? Of course he’d adapted to survive; could dart at a moment’s notice to catch fish in nimble fingers but fish wasn’t enough for those who had dined on flesh. Fish wasn’t enough to feed the woman that dined like queens, like presenting royalty with porridge and Michael had learnt to live on his own. Lop off his hair so the curls didn’t tangle in his face, travel the currents and find the companionship he so desperately wanted in the birds and the beasts of the ocean even though it was never enough. But what other choice did he have when no mer would get within ten feet of him, let alone give him the time of day?

 

With that being the case, why wouldn’t he turn to the men that sailed the seas? The ones that seemed to appreciate the voice he had been shunned for, that understood the lure that he had for the sea if it was a little misplaced in a species so delicate and land bound. But in their words and stories he found a solace; in their laughter he found a balm to soothe the hole gouged out of him by the woman that should have been brethren. He only watched from afar or clung to the hull of the ship and listened, but it was enough.

 

After all that it was no wonder he came ashore. Most mermaids bred as part of their prey’s final moments, but some prefered four walls and a bed, the mystery of a woman there one day and gone the next. Michael set up shop in the safe house at the edge of town, one that no mer had touched since he'd walked inside for the first time. (They called it tainted by the male hand, his male hand. He called it home and the word was foreign and not quite right on his tongue because it felt like he was missing something important to the definition. But it was the closest thing he'd ever had and it make him weep all the same.) He made friends with the stray tabby that always managed to get inside and lie on the bed and scavenged notes and coins off the seafloor to pay for himself as he made his first small ventures into human society, wondered at the advancements of technology and made it work.

 

He quickly found his home in the nightclubs and bars, interactions that wouldn't suffer from his slip up and continuity errors halfway through a conversation because the men were always more interested in a quick fuck or grind. (Although it never went as far as the former). It was always men too - it didn't take long to find out that while he couldn't ensnare men woman were a whole other story, going glassy eyes as soon as he opened his mouth. And while Michael wasn't always above using that to score a few free drinks it made something sick sink down in his stomach because somewhere between listening to the sailors on the sea and stepping into the clubs he'd developed a conscience towards humans that his kind usually lacked. And perhaps that would be his doom, but at his centre Michael was a creature of carnal pleasures and he really honestly couldn’t fucking care less.

 

But he wasn't the only one of his kind to come to the surface.

 

-x-

 

Michael had been standing at the phone booth for exactly one hour, forty six minutes and fifty two seconds.

 

Fifty three, fifty four, fifty five… This was ignoring the fact that it had taken the redhead about three days to even get to where he was standing now, fingers repeatedly running over the quarters in his hand as he stared down the phone box as if he was about to get into the punch up with the metal. The napkin was in his hand, scrunched but thankfully still readable as he held it back up in front of him. Ryan’s words had been smudged by his clammy hands, the ink running ever so slightly.

 

This was easy.  
  
  
It was just punching in a few numbers and ringing up a guy to go meet for coffee again. Nothing to it. He wasn’t the best at English but even if he had been in a situation that he couldn’t read for shit this was just a simple game of match up - the oval to the oval, the line to the line, the ball on the stick to the ball on the stick. Hell, it wasn’t even like Ryan was single. Ryan was probably the most taken man in the history of mankind - this wasn’t a date in anything but the very basic sense of the word. And yet...

 

"Oh fuck it." He finally said, pushing in the quarters just a bit too forcefully than what was called for, punching in each number before shoving the phone to his ear, cold plastic against the skin that was just a bit too hot.

 

“Hello?”

 

In hindsight, Michael would be surprised just how quickly his confidence evaporated.

 

“Uh, hi, this is Michael?” He said, and suddenly his own words didn’t sound sure on his own tongue. “I met you three day- last weekend at the club? Shit, is this the right number-”

 

“No no, this is Ryan. I’m glad you called.” Ryan replied, and despite the crackle of the cable Michael sighed in relief at the already familiar rumble of Ryan’s voice, the genuine happiness that seemed to be in his voice making Michael smile easier. “I’m assuming you’re interested in taking me up on the outstanding offer?”

 

“Without all the fancy bullshit words, yeah.” Michael replied. "You're making it sound like I'm making some sort of appointment.

 

There was a low machine like humming in the background, along general background noise of chatter. A closer, more distinct voice started squawking and Ryan chuckled at the sound.

 

“Sorry, I’m at the supermarket now with Gavin and Geoff, running low on the essentials. Can I ring you back? Promise we won't take too long." That made Michael freeze up - shit, he knew he should’ve gotten a cell phone. Then again up until now he'd lead a life solely of see you one moment, next you're gone; in his defense really he has no reason whatsoever to get one. Up until now, anyway.

 

“Uh, actually I’m using a payphone... I don’t think you can call those?”

 

“Oh!” Ryan said. "Give me a moment then." His voice was cut off by scuffling, a hand over the receiver probably, as muffled conversation was had in the background. Probably talking it out with his boyfriends most likely. Michael filled in the time by dragging his shoes along the concrete and watching the way the ground left black streaks in the clean rubber, still squeaky clean from the box. "So apparently Geoff hasn't started dinner so we can meet up for that, and there's a great pizza place out the west side of town - Pete's, you heard of it before?"

 

"Hell yeah!" Michael replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically for his liking. "They have the best pepperoni." The place was also not a quarter hour walk from where he was standing now - always a bonus.

 

"Good to know somebody else has good taste." Ryan replied, and Michael could hear the smile in his voice. "Geoff's going to swing back home and bring the others if they want to come out. Jack'll most definitely want to come, and Ray generally tags along with what we do. So expect five for dinner tonight."

 

"You sure they all want to come out?" Michael said, hesitantly. If anything, honestly it was starting to sound more like a date he was third wheeling on rather than a meetup with friends. In the background he could hear a heavily accented voice whining 'Ry-bread, is he being a wingy little mong?" Before Michael could interrupt to ask what the fuck sort of English that was Ryan jumped to his reply.

 

"Seriously Michael, all kidding aside you seem like a cool guy. I mean, Gavin certainly agrees at the very least-"

 

"He barely even spoke two words to me until the fucking end!" Michael exclaimed, flinging his free arm up. A part of him registered that he must look ridiculous right now, flailing his arms around in a phone box and perhaps it wasn't one of his prouder moments (up there with thinking that sandwich in a bag that dude threw in the sea would be totally safe to eat) but at least nobody important was watching him right now.

 

"Gavin barely finds anybody interesting enough to rabbit on about for days on end." Ryan countered. "Much less actually want to see them again after." A muffled 'hey!' made its way through the receiver. "He's a sort of 'drop and run' guy so the fact he's even talked to you again is nothing short of a miracle."

 

"A miracle like the way you're talking to me like you've known me for a lot more than a few days?"

 

"Friendships have been forged in less time than this-"

 

"-usually _without_ one person sounding like a walking fortune cookie." Michael replied, grinning.

 

"You're an asshole Michael." There was a lift to Ryan's voice though that was more affectionate than anything and as they said their goodbyes Michael could feel his confidence starting to come back as he backed out of the phone booth and started to walk. Of course, it was probably going to disappear as soon as he saw this 'Jack' and 'Geoff' but it was nice to have an upbeat tune whistling off his lips as he walked. He didn't even mind for once the double takes of the few woman that passed, the way their eyes lingered as if waiting for his next words, to truly fall under his spell; the gazes rolled off him like water off a duck’s back.

 

By the time he reached Pete's the sun was just beginning to kiss the horizon, the sky being coloured in brilliant shades of orange and pink as he made his way inside, scanning the tables. The place had a warm atmosphere to it accented by the day’s dying light, and there was just something about this place that never failed to stir something in his gut. Michael couldn’t quite put a name to it - ‘longing’was probably the closest he would get, longing to know this warmth by name and to call it ‘homely’ like he knew what that word really meant.

 

He was called over by Ryan and Gavin, sitting right at the front of the restaurant and having claimed one of the larger table-booth like seating arrangements.It consisted of a few plush couches wrapping around a corner, looking out the window at the view and the sea was just visible in the distance. Ryan was sitting on the edge of one of the couches, and shuffled in to give Michael some room as he sat down. Gavin, meanwhile, had somehow managed to claim a whole couch and more for himself, sprawled across it with all the grace of a hyped up puppy with his feet dangling half an inch from Ryan’s face. The Brit was constantly twitching and moving and good god, this man was a far cry from the smooth talker he had met in the thick of the crowd - he was starting to believe Ray’s disbelief at getting hot under the collar from somebody as ridiculous as Gavin.

 

It didn’t take long though for a large jeep-like car to pull up outside, the doors flinging open and another three people popping out. Out the driver’s door popped a man with the most ridiculous moustache that Michael had ever seen (how the fuck could he carry it off so well) and moments later he was joined by a faintly familiar man who had a beard to match. Of course, the men with the comical facial hair would stick together. Ray slipped out of the back seat behind them, face buried in a gaming device of some kind with the light of it reflecting off his glasses.

  
Michael quickly came to the conclusion that he was irrevocably fucked - and unfortunately, far from in the literal sense of the word.

 

“You must be Michael.” The moustached man said, walking up to the redhead with an easy smile on his lips. “Geoff. Its nice to finally meet the man half my household’s been going on about.” Michael couldn’t resist smiling, extending out a hand for the man to shake. There was a relaxed strength in the way that Geoff did so, a man comfortable in his own skin and as he shimmied up next to Michael he couldn’t help but savor the contact.

 

“Jack, great to meet you as well.” The bearded man said, reaching across Geoff to shake Michael’s hand as well. There was a softness to his voice that was absent from everybody else’ chatter; it was calming in a way Michael knew a group like this needed. “-Fucking hell Gavin, can you keep still for five seconds?” Also apparently able to dish out as good as he got.

 

“He’s been squirming around like that since I got here.” Michael said, hoping it wasn’t out of place for him to butt in like this because he was a part of this conversation too, right? “I don’t think he can stay still or he’ll die.”

 

“Hey!” Gavin squawked (it seemed to be a usual occurrence for the guy). “I can keep still!”

 

“Then stop acting like you’ve got a dick up your ass and calm the fuck down.” Ray said, seeming absolutely detached from the conversation. Well, that was until the Puerto Rican looked up and gave Michael a rather smug look over the lid of his DS that more than hinted he was paying attention before he put it away… Michael had the feeling he was going to like him.

 

Actually, he had the feeling he was going to like all of them - he thought this thing was going to be awkward, meeting with all six of them over more pizza than Michael had seen in his life as the sunlight bled out into the ocean. It wasn't a cakewalk, far from it - he struggled sometimes having a conversation with just one person because the intensity of having all that attention on him made the reclusive part of him squirm and six people just made him want to run and hide or lash out, just whatever it took to make them leave him _alone._ Not to mention he would get talked over and too often he was left telling the tail end of his story to his pizza. But then one of the other guys would tap him on the shoulder (usually Ryan or Jack, although Ray did a few times too) and press him for the end of his story.

 

There was just this innate, near instinctive sense of inclusion in the group - there had to be, Michael realised, for this sort of arrangement to work. The five of them had to be so intune to everybody else or this could all fall in on their heads. A relationship of two was already hard enough, Michael had seen the proof of that in partners throwing fits at clubs, men and woman yelling loud enough to be heard at the other end of the room, couples seen making out in the corner one night storming out the next. It all came down to communication, communication… and Michael wasn’t the best at communication.

 

“So you got any sweethearts to go back home to?” Geoff asked, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made michael near spit take his drink.

 

"No, nothing." Michael said, "Just a bed and the one eyed dock cat that likes me because I feed him when there's slim pickings."

 

"Wait, do you live in that cottage down the end of the beach?" Jack said, with a look of pure concentration, trying to catch onto a thought that was just out of reach.

 

"Yeah, why?"

 

"I walk past there every week." Jack said, and oh that was why he seemed familiar. Michael had seen Jack several times from the bay. Sometimes he had somebody with him - somebody he now realised to be Geoff. Most of the time though he was alone - being in such a hyper household michael imagined Jack would probably need to get away on occasion. "I didn't realise you were so close."

 

"Wait, where do you live?"

 

"Couple of streets back from where you are, up Hunter road on the hill there? Ray's uncle got us a good price on the place."

 

"A filthy immigrant deal, obviously." Ray chimed in over a slice of pizza.

 

"We've been there for about six months now," Jack said "it's nice to all be in the same household after the six of us spending what, how many years apart again?"

 

"Who are you talking to?" Geoff said, and he has a lazy smart ass smile on his face as he wiped some tomato paste off the corner of his mouth.

 

“Oh fuck off you, you don’t count.” Jack said, and there was an affectionate smile shared between them that carried the weight of a lover’s secret code, something that was older than the way that Gavin hung off Ryan’s arm or Ray managed to get Jack handing him a slice of pizza without saying a word. It was something in the way he could see the twinkle spark in Jack’s eyes, the way Geoff’s mouth quirked as he bit into the remaining crust of his pizza. It was admirable, really… It made Michael jealous in a way he wasn’t quite sure how to handle as Jack turned back to him. “We’ve all been properly together for about a year now? We’ve all been in pairs and dancing about it for a bit longer now.”

 

“Except me.” Ryan said, shrugging. “Frankly I still don’t know how I ended up in this mess.”

 

“Probably has something to do with how Gavin pinned you up against our flat door and made out with you like you guys were auditioning for a porno or something.” Ray said. “Because Gavin has all the class of a guy half his age.”

 

“If it wasn’t him, it was going to be one of us.” Geoff injected. “Seriously, how the fuck were you still single? You’re a golden god!”

 

“I told you, I’m not good with girls!” Ryan insisted, and his cheeks were going ruddy and _wow,_ that was a good look on the man. “Or men!” Ryan added quickly, seeing the immediate comeback that Geoff was going for and it made Michael start cackling in his seat. The action made Geoff seem to realise though who exactly had been the subject of the initial conversation.

 

“Shit, sorry, this was supposed to be about Michael and his thriving love life.” Geoff said, turning back to Michael. Their knees brushed as he said so; it brought back the feeling of low level arousal that Michael had been operating on all evening.

 

“My love life is about as bare and fucking impossible as the desert-”

 

“-Las Vegas is in the desert.” Jack pointed out.

 

“Shut the fuck up Jack.” Michael said, stuttering to a pause to double check that yes, that was a genuine smile on Jack’s face before continuing. “Point is I have absolutely nothing in the way of people to make out with and shit so you can kindly fuck _off_.” Michael meant it as a joke but the words came off a bit harsher than he meant and he could see Geoff jerk back just the slightest bit.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to hit a nerve-”

 

“No it’s fine.” Michael said, even as he wanted to curl up not sure whether it was because of the slip up or because Geoff had hit a nerve he hadn't realised was so exposed and he scrambled for the words he wanted. “It- I didn’t mean it like that.” He saw Geoff purse his lips just slightly, but then the expression was gone, water off his back and he smiled easy.

 

“No worries then, happens to the best of us.” He said, and with that conversation was right back on track with a rhythm that had Michael smiling. Occasionally though he’d see Ryan look over, brow furrowed just slightly as if trying to find the missing piece. But even that faded, and by the time the plates had been cleared and they were grabbing mints out the bowl as Geoff paid for all their meals (at his insistence) Michael had almost forgotten the whole situation had happened.

 

“You wanna grab a ride back with us, boi?” Gavin asked, clapping Michael on the shoulder and nearly making Michael jump out of his fucking skin.

 

“ _Fucking_ hell Gavin, warn me before you do that again?” Michael snapped. Gavin just gave him a dopey grin; Michael quickly realized that after the initial shock he actually didn’t mind. It was Gavin after all, the guy who had bet him an easy hundred bucks that he could chug the whole ketchup bottle before he started his pizza and frankly he was starting to agree with Ray’s disbelief this was the same man that had left Michael panting with a hard on in the middle of the dance floor. “Uh, do you guys even have space in the car?”

 

“Seven seater.” Geoff said, swinging up into the driver’s side of the jeep. Of course he’d be the driver. “We’re going the same way as you, so just so you know we’re not going to take no for an answer.” Michael glanced out momentarily at the ocean. He’d originally just planned to walk down to the water and swim from there, but catching a ride with the guys at the very least would mean not needing to worry about drying a set of clothes. Plus, Gavin was giving him a wounded puppy look and really, he could more than easily deal with these guys for a little bit longer.

 

“Sure, why the hell not.” Michael replied after a moment. He was met with a chorus of ‘yes’s which concluded with Ray dragging him inside the jeep. In no time at all the car was purring along, the radio humming a song that nobody was really paying attention to as they chatted as they drove home. It was obvious everybody was winding down again - Gavin was nodding off against Ryan’s shoulder, who was staring out the window with the street lamps reflecting in his serene blue eyes. Ray had retreated to his DS game - Pokemon, he had replied when Michael had asked what he was playing while showing him a battle screen of a green critter with roses for hands fighting an acorn - and Geoff and Jack were silent up front as well, murmuring something about needing to get bread and some milk for their coffee tomorrow. Too soon they were pulling up outside Michael’s house.

 

“Thanks for everything guys.” Michael said, going to swing the door shut. Ray was up though, holding it open.

 

“No seriously, thank you.” The Puerto Rican said, smiling.

 

“Yeah, it was really great finally meeting you.” Jack said. “Hopefully we didn’t get too couply on you.”

 

“No seriously, you were fine.” Michael said, directing that in particular at Geoff. He could see the older man nod - it made him smile.

 

“You should come over later this week.” Jack said. “Geoff looks for any excuse to barbecue up enough meat to feed a small army and we got a new massive Jenga set that we’ve been dying to bust out. Mostly Ryan.”

 

“Hey, jingl- Jenga’s a great game, okay?” Ryan insisted, getting a round of snickers from the car.

 

“Sounds great.” Michael replied, and he found he couldn’t quite wipe his smile away from the thought of hanging out with these guys again. He didn’t mind.

 

“Yeah, I’ll text you- shit, you don’t have a phone.” Ryan said after a moment. “Maybe Jack could come by tomorrow on his walk or something-”

 

“No its fine.” Michael said. “Its about high time I got one anyway.” And when Michael sent off a text the next day saying ‘ **what up asshole’** and got the reply ‘ **about time** ’ in response, the smile returned to his lips just as fast as it had before.

 

-x-

 

There was something that Michael found so freeing about being a mermaid in a human’s world. All the fun without the responsibility, Michael reveled in how the tables had turned. Going from a man that had any living person scattering in a ten mile radius to conducting people with clever words and wandering hands had a sort of intoxicating quality to it that the redhead practically fed off. It was a sense of power that had Michael addicted, but it wasn’t just the control. It was the fact that the control was hard won - that he didn’t have to rely on a voice that reminded him just why the fuck he hated himself on his worse days to win people over. It was the fact he could say just what they wanted to hear, touch them and play them like a well tuned instrument that had him enamoured.

 

But as he dove further and further into the human world he found he wasn't the only one to have done this - that for who the fuck knew what reason there were others of his... ‘type’ also venturing into this new and so technologically advanced world. In a way he could understand their curiosity, since while he had made the plunge out of desperation more than anything there was so much about the human world that was simply _fascinating_. More variety in food in a ten foot area in a supermarket that Michael had ever seen in his life, the phenomena and feel of clothing, so strange to a man used to nothing but his own skin on his back. Even small things like the traffic lights somehow syncing up and the Internet as a whole and the variety of plants Michael had seen about.

 

But the mermaids that came up and started stalking the cities… They were less careful. They didn’t see the human world as the marvel Michael did; they saw it as an expanded dinner plate and all too quickly massacres had started appearing in the news, reports of _creatures_ in human skin that could only be taken down by a swift bullet to the brain as the smell of blood flushed any resemblance of sanity from their minds. Of woman so beautiful one moment one minute morphing into monsters with needle sharp teeth, taloned fingers long and spiny and impossibly strong. Of things that were not friends, could not be befriended because they only recognised humans as prey.

 

Things that were the enemy.

 

The mermaids eventually got the message, returned to the ocean but there were some that remained and the damage was already done all the same. Information was spread like the plague, some truthful like their sensitive skin, their mainly carnivorous diet, their sensitive hearing and quick reflexes. But some of the information was wildly out of proportion - they could be warded off by the stench of rotting meat, that temperatures above 95° would throw them into cardiac arrest, that mermaids could become fucking immortal by sleeping with men but the general message stayed the same. Mermaids were dangerous. Stay away from them or you will die.

 

Michael stopped sleeping easy after that - but he still continued returning to the clubs, chasing after that human interaction he craved. Danger or not, he needed this like air and despite the target on his head now there were some things worth the risk.

 

And they were looking for mer _maids_ , after all.

 

-x-

 

The house was so quiet at in the early hours of the morning.

 

It still surprised Michael , honestly. With so many people in the place, there was always something happening every second of the day. If Jack was napping in the sun Geoff and Gavin were versing off in Peggle, if Ryan’s insomnia was finally letting up and allowing him to get some rest Ray was streaming video games to his religiously supportive fanbase. The house sung of activity every second of the day, so when night fell it was always so strange to see that energy just fall away, forgotten. Of course, there was the occasional hum; Jack tinkering away in the garage or Ryan reading a book or like tonight, a late night movie that had Geoff nodded off in his armchair, Gavin dozing as he sprawled unceremoniously over Jack, Ryan and his own lap and Ray struggling to stay awake on the floor in front of them. _Oceans 11_ had been the decision for the movie, which earlier had inspired a heated debate as to whether the six of them could pull off a heist as magnificent as the one that the movie was playing out with. Ryan had pointed out they were at a distinct disadvantage with only six in their crew, but Geoff had stubbornly stood by the fact that his expert guidance would be the all the advantage they needed. Not that it really mattered, because they had all unanimously agreed that Gavin would probably fuck it up and make them all go up in a blazing pile of glory.

 

But the movie had ended and Michael had watched as the five got ready for bed. Jack had gathered Gavin up, the lanky Brit barely a weight in the man’s arms. Gavin nuzzled into the warm weight of his boyfriend, sighing lightly in his sleep. Ryan leaned down to prod Ray in the shoulder, who looked as if he was about to faceplant into the floor and just stay there and he wouldn’t have even cared. Ryan wasn’t having any of that though, dragging him up by the arm before pressing a kiss to his forehead. As the other four shuffled out into the hallway Geoff fiddled around with the TV controls, closing everything down while Michael helped ditch the popcorn dishes in the sink, ready for tomorrow when somebody could be bothered emptying the dishwasher. The redhead had to pause though, fingers skimming over the newspaper left on the bench. It was splattered and stained with various food scraps and it was a miracle it hadn't been thrown out yet but a little coffee and ketchup couldn’t hide the headline ‘ **Trouble Waters as Mermaids Return - Is It Time To Start Fighting Back?** ’.

 

“Scary, isn’t it?”

 

And Michael jumped back with a little yip because fucking hell why would somebody sneak up on him like that? But there was a sleepiness to his figure, beyond what lingered permanently in his eyes that confirmed that Geoff far from meant to scare him. The only scary thing was the headline on the paper, and to that Michael had to agree albeit for stranger reasons than Geoff could’ve ever imagined.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You know, Jack reckons he’s seen some out in the bay nearby here.” Geoff said, and it made Michael chew on his lip because okay where was this going “can’t ever see more than their heads bobbing way out - kinda surprised you’re not talking about them more Michael. Fishermen love those weird as dicks stories.” And Michael had to throw his head back and _laugh_ at that because frankly, the irony was killing him right now. It wasn’t a humorous laugh though; it was a laugh that ran down the length of his ribcage to make it rattle, that grabbed him by the bones and shook him and frankly he didn’t blame the look that Geoff was giving him as he came back to himself.

 

“You hear enough from the reporters already.” Michael said, letting the lie run off his tongue smooth as honey. He’d gotten so _good_ at lying. “And I hardly think that you want to hear a story from a guy that’s been going crazy at sea by himself for too many years.”

 

“I guess fishermen are kinda inaccurate as hell when it comes to retelling stories, but eh I trust you Michael. You’ll have to take us out on the boat sometime, I’m sure you’d enjoy the company.” The words made his heart seize up, because while he’d been able to bullshit his way through a lot of their friendship his mysterious and entirely fictional boat has always held a small, horrible place in his heart because like _hell_ would he be able to find a boat in ship shape that he could take the five guys out on. It only seemed to be a suggestion though, because Geoff was yawning again, the statement forgotten. “You sure you’re fine out here on the couch? It’d be easy to get all the shit off the spare bed if you wanted that.”

 

“Nah, its fine. I’ve slept on worse.” Michael replied. “I might go home anyway, its hard for me not to sleep in my own bed.” And Geoff just nodded at that in a way that made Michael’s heart _ache_ because earned or not he had so much respect for this man and he just wanted to please Geoff. The man was unofficially the conductor of their little group and Michael was what at least Ray referred to as a ‘kiss up’ to him. Michael just tended to use the term ‘a mess’, but alternate names were always fun to hear.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Positive.” Michael said. Geoff stood there for a moment, pursing his lips and for a moment his expression got serious, brow furrowing as he thought, mouth opening as if he was going to say something else. He quickly closed his mouth though, moving on. “Sleep well then, yeah? We’ll catch you in the morning or whenever the hell we next see you.”

 

“You too Geoff. I’ll text you, yeah?”

 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He replied. Michael gave him a little wave as the man disappeared, leaving in in the dark lounge area. Michael quickly realised though that sleep wasn’t coming to him, whether he liked it or not and he settled for letting himself wander through the place that was more familiar to him than his own house. It was surprising that over three months even with the five men working he could retell so many intimate stories about the house; the dent on the coffee table was when they first moved in and Geoff thought that they could _totally_ fit it in the front door, the stain on the carpet next to the TV from spilt red wine at the housewarming party apparently nobody noticed for a good twelve hours. Even the photos were not exempt from that; the collection of them on the back wall made him stop and look, trace his fingers over the frames in the yellowed light of the lamp Geoff had left on for him.

 

They told a story, one even more intricate than the various imperfections in the house. The first photo was the oldest, a picture of Jack and Geoff on the beach back when Geoff was growing a beard and Jack had none and there were a few decisions that Michael was thankful for and Geoff and Jack swapping facial hair choices was one of them. Apparently that’d been taken a couple of days before they had gotten together - with how close they were in the photo, Geoff’s arm slung around Jack’s and Jack’s eyes crinkling halfway through his boisterous laugh Michael could have been fooled.

 

The next photos skipped around a bit, and it was so strange to see the formation of the five person relationship coming together on film. From Gavin and Ray appearing sporadically in bar photos, to showing up in pairs around one of Geoff’s infamous barbeques, to huddled together as close as Geoff and Jack were with fireworks lighting up the sky behind them. It was impossible to tell when Geoff & Jack and Ray & Gavin became Geoff & Jack & Ray & Gavin and somehow Ryan wormed his way in there too, between shoulders and in the sides of frames. Sure, photos were posed but they all looked so innocently _happy_ \- it didn’t look like the happiness was put on or posed and it brought a sort of genuine nature to the display that made it rang far more true than more traditional family portraits.

 

It was the last photo that made Michael smile the most though, selfish as it was. It made him smile because _he_ was in it, wedged between Jack and Ray with half a piece of pizza in his hand, laughing at some stupid thing that Gavin had said with a smudge of pizza sauce on his left cheek. Geoff looked like he was about to smoosh his own pizza slice into Gavin’s hair and there was a slight tilt to the photo that clued Michael in this was the photo that Ryan took a moment before bursting into laughter. The memory made a warmth settle in his heart for once, but the picture did that ten times over because he looked like he _belonged_ for once in his god damned life. There was no ‘odd one out’, there were no awkward gaps that were even evident in some of the older photos. It was just a picture of them, and he looked like he belonged… And there were no words to express the joy he felt at that.

 

“Michael?”

 

The voice was sleepy but it shocked Michael all the same, turning around to see Ryan standing at the doorway with boxers and a loose shirt on and a more lucid part of his mind marveled at how the broad shouldered man could look so swamped and _innocent_ with just a simple change of clothes and lighting. It reminded Michael not for the first time of how young Ryan was despite being so much older than him - he held his head high and acted like a Gent but if there were shenanigans afoot you could guarantee that if Ryan wasn’t stuck in the middle it he would have been the one to plan it. It was something Michael adored about the man.

  
“I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

  
“You know I’m not a great sleeper, even if I want to be. Why aren’t you? You look tired.”

  
“I was thinking.”  
  
“About what?”  
  
“You guys.” Ryan moved deeper into the room at that - his presence filled the room and Michael breathed in deep. The smell of him was enough to calm his heart slightly, which had already kicked into double time.  
  
“What about us?”  
  
“I’m just… Really lucky to have you guys.” He said. “You’ve done so much for me and I don’t know how to thank you guys.”  
  
No, he more than just adored the man.  
  
“You don’t need to thank us Michael, you just being with us is enough.”  
  
Michael loved him.  
  
“But there has to be something more than than.”  
  
Michael loved all of them.  
  
“Honestly Michael, all you have to do is be yourse-”  
  
And with that Ryan was silenced with lips against his own, a weight against him as Michael finally did what he had wanted to ever since that day in the bar when the music just hadn’t sat right with him. Only this wasn’t the desperate, heated kiss Michael had dreamed of - this was something more sacred, persistent if only to hold the press of lips between them like a bird in cupped hands. It was only a moment but it stretched out for ten and by the time reality crashed down like it always irreversibly did there was something behind that kiss that Michael was far too scared to admit to.  
  
“Fuck- I need to go.” Michael said, tearing himself away from Ryan because fuck Ryan was a taken man, he had four loving boyfriends and who did he think he was waltzing in and wanting him, thinking he could get him? Who did he think he was thinking that he was owed anything, that Ryan would even _want_ him? That thought alone made him stumble back from Ryan and he could feel the tears burning in his eyes as he took a few more steps back because fuck, he’d had such a good thing, such a good thing and he’d fucked it up so bad. His thoughts were going in circles and he was suddenly craving the blue infinity of the deep ocean so much it hurt and he scrambled for the door-  
  
“-Michael, don’t go.”  
  
And Ryan was catching his wrist and it made panic rise in Michael’s throat as he tore away his hand, stumbled into the door as clumsy fingers clawed at the metal of the handle because did it go up or down, left or right he just had to get away-  
  
“Michael _please_ just one second-”  
  
“ _Why?_ ” Michael bit back, and his voice was all rage but it wavered with the emotion that clouded his eyes and made his fingers clumsy. “ _Why_ should I wait and put myself through humil- _embarrassment?_ ” He couldn’t even trust himself to pronounce words correctly in the state he was in but his whole world was falling apart around him, everything he was building up had come crashing down around him and he couldn’t deal with this here-  
  
-And then Ryan’s lips were on his own and his own mind came to a complete wreck of a stop as his thoughts just stopped working for approximately five seconds. Left him unable to ignore the way that Ryan crowded over his figure with a size difference between them that made him feel nothing but safe, that despite the strength in his body Ryan could hold his jaw so delicately and brush their lips together like Michael was made of porcelain - which wasn’t entirely inaccurate right now as Michael felt about five seconds away from shaking apart.  
  
“Stay.” Ryan said, and his words were so soft but they held a promise that Michael couldn’t bring himself to believe.  
  
“But the others-”  
  
“-have been wanting the same thing for a while.” Ryan said, cutting off Michael’s insecurities as he stroked the redhead’s cheek with his thumb. Despite himself Michael leaned into the touch, could feel worries starting to peel off him like autumn leaves. “You mean so much to us Michael, and I can't vouch one hundred percent for the others but I’ve been falling in love with you for months now and they haven't been much better. Stay. Please.”  
  
“We’ll be talking about this with the others when we wake up?”  
  


“Of course. Now come to bed.” Ryan said, smiling at the end. “You have no idea how long I’ve been you lip waiting to say that.”

  
“Wait, to _your_ bed?” Michael said. “My shit’s all out here, I’m fine for tonight.”  
  
  
“Like hell I’m leaving you out here on the couch after all that.” Ryan said, outstretching a hand. “You can walk out that door if you really want to, but theres a space in the bed for you and all you have to do is ask.”  
  
  
Michael didn’t even wait a moment to take it.

  
-x-

 

Sometimes Michael didn't know how to explain.

 

As two people get closer, involuntarily or not one finds themselves opening up to each other. Words become easier on the tongue and secrets are ripe on the lip and the others were no exception. Lazy Sundays would find Michael perched on the side of the porch table, making jabs with Geoff over barbecue as the older man detailed the ex that had inspired him to learn how to cook seriously in the first place. He would feed him pieces of meat hot off the barbeque; the pork and beef settled heavy in his stomach and it took him a while to realize the feeling was that of being full after a meal - something that fish being so light in comparison could never do. The early mornings would leave Michael and Ryan talking over coffee, lunches over a particular squirmy Brit, afternoons with the curtains pulled playing game after game of Call of Duty with his legs intertwined with Ray’s own. Late nights would find the red head walking on the beach with Jack, the man detailing the finer details of how he fell in love with Geoff, how this whole thing fucking scared him but he loved them all too much to back out now and he couldn't help but agree.

 

He wanted to talk - god he wanted to talk but every time he went to say something about the secrets he hid the words died on his tongue because how stupid could he be to risk everything he had here? Even the very word ‘mermaid’ now made something flip uncomfortably in Michael’s stomach every time he even _thought_ he heard the word. God, he could ask but he was happy in this illusion of safety that he was living under and he didn’t care that it was false. (He did. He did and it was terrifying.)

 

But the more he stayed with the five the harder it got to explain - why he would have to disappear some nights because the sea called to him far too strongly for him to ignore, why touches on the neck and down his sides made him jump away because the skin covering his gills was so sensitive and it was already hard enough trying to deflect the questions of why he had ‘scars’ there. One night a couple of weeks ago a movie had turned to him and Gavin making out on the couch, kisses heated and slow as Michael ground down on the leg between his thighs. Gavin had the most wild look in his eyes, pupils blown wide with a fist in Michael’s hair as he cooed and moaned in unison with Michael’s own noises and it was fucking amazing to see him like this, his movements free and natural and yet playing him like a fine tuned instrument. But then fingers had brushed down his neck, pressing into the membrane just underneath the skin and Michael could still pinpoint the moment even now when that arousal had turned to sheer dread. His voice died in his throat and he scrambled away trying to spit out an apology but the words turned to gibberish and god Gavin had no idea what the fuck to do except to let him get away. Michael had seen him want to bring up the incident since, the strange scars on his neck that looked like an attempt at something much more gruesome but he’d become inexplicably good at flipping the conversation when it steered towards that. It was better that way.

 

It was big things and small things too. He couldn’t explain his distaste for vegetables without fumbling the words, couldn’t explain the way he refused to swim whenever they went to the beach because frankly he wasn’t even sure he could swim with legs and he wasn’t going to risk transforming mid swim to avoid drowning and betray what he’d worked for.

 

He had contemplated just disappearing, swimming to Hawaii or further and just leaving the five in the dust… But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he cared so much for them and he could understand what Jack was talking about because he loved them so much he could barely breathe. He needed them - he couldn’t stand the thought of them not needing him. He couldn’t stand the thought of being alone again.

 

-x-

 

“You realise that in a few weeks we would’ve been together for six months, right?"

 

The words made Michael pause, chewing thoughtfully around his mouthful of steak as he looked over at Geoff, naturally sitting at one head at the table.

 

"Already?" Gavin said, grinning. "That's bloody top!"

 

"Didn't realise it'd been that long already." Ryan agreed. "It feels like you've been here a lot longer than that." It was left unspoken that Michael had fallen into place like the missing puzzle piece they didn't even know they had, but there was a look in their eyes that said that and more. (Michael remembered when he used to be jealous of those looks, when he longed for his own and experiencing them now they were every bit as wonderful as he had hoped them to be.)

 

"Why do you mention it?"

 

"We were thinking of celebrating." Geoff said. "You know, since it's kind of unlikely as dicks that we've lasted this far... Well I mean we know we're fine but that's besides the point."

 

"What were you thinking?" Michael asked, putting down his cutlery onto his. "I mean, we've got all the Transformers movies sitting on Netflix and I know there's a rack of lamb you've been wanting to barbecue."

 

"We need to do that, but no." Geoff said, smiling fondly. "Me and Jack have been talking and we were actually talking something a bit more... Drastic."

 

"Have you ever been to Las Vegas Michael?" Jack asked. "Because we should all go. And we want to take you with us." Michael nearly choked on his food.

 

"You want to go to Las Vegas?"

 

"You haven't lived until you've played a game of craps." Jack interjected, grinning. The normally placid man looked just about ready to jump out of his seat with excitement and the contrast was shocking to say the least. A good sort though; Jack was unfairly adorable on a normal day and right now the joy in his features was absolutely contagious. Michael quickly realised something though.

 

"Wait, isn't Vegas in the desert?" Michael asked, furrowing his brow. "Also right in the middle of the country?"

 

"Oh, we'll be catching flights and things." Geoff said. "We're not subjecting ourselves to days of would you rathers I assure you."

 

"Oi, you prick!" Gavin said, butting in. "You guys love them."

 

"You realise the only person that ever fucking answers them properly is Ryan right?" Michael said, laughing. "Fucking stupid idiot."

 

"That's not true!" Gavin insisted. "Jack answers them sometimes. Properly too!" Jack shrugged, as if there really wasn’t any denying the fact. “Take that, you pissy little knob.”

 

“Boys, please, you’re both pretty.” Geoff said, grinning. “But seriously Michael, we’ve been waiting to talk to you most, mostly because you don’t live with us yet.” The word ‘yet’ was tacked on like a promise. “We’re not going to make you pay for anything - all you need to do is show up here and we’ll take care of the rest.”

 

“I’m not letting you pay for me, fucking hell-”

 

“I’m not arguing it.” Geoff said, although his expression read more amused than anything. “Look, we’re five men all working stable jobs and making a steady income. We have a bit more cash just lying around and you’ve brought us enough fresh fish that it’s really about time we pay you back. Alright?”

 

“Yes dad.” Michael grumbled, folding his arms across his chest and rolling his eyes.

 

“Good.” Geoff said. “We’ll take the week off, head over there and just do the works. Gamble a bit-”

 

“-a lot” Gavin interjected, getting a swat from Geoff.

 

“-gamble a bit, drink a lot, have a look around and enjoy the place.” He finished. “And the hotel we’re going to stay at is fucking cool. Theres a gym, a pool, the bar’s open 24/7 and you know we’re going to try every single drink there before the week is out and its literally just down the road from all the casinos. You’ll fucking love it Michael.”

 

“You’ll love it as much as I hate Gamestop.” Ray added nonchalantly, or at least tried to. There was a brightness to his gaze, a certain tenseness to the way that he was holding himself that clued Michael into the fact the Puerto Rican man cared a little more about the income about this conversation than he was letting on. Not to mention Jack looked about five seconds away from jumping up and down and pulling on Michael’s sleeve like a little kid. The two most placid people in this hectic mess they called a relationship looked more excited than he’d ever seen them… And he realised it hinged on his decision.

 

“I really haven’t been away from the sea before.” Michael said, pushing the few scraps on his plate around as he looked down. He’d never been away from water for that long before - days, certainly; the men around him were testament to that. But a week… And a week in a _desert._ He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to test to see how hardy his human form was. But the more he looked around the more he felt his resolve crumble because _god_ he loved these men, wanted them to have the very best he (or they) could give them. And if that was a holiday away from everything? Well, who would be be to deny them?

 

“I’ll do it.” He was almost cut off by Gavin whooping, jumping up from his seat.

 

“Oh my boi you are _so_ getting some tail tonight!” He exclaimed, making everybody laugh and maybe just a shade of pink to rise to Michael’s cheeks.

 

“Well you really should tell me a little bit more, so i can actually, you know, pack at the right time.”

 

“I’m sure we can manage that.” Jack said, and the absolute delight in his features as he swooped over to Michael to give him a hug made him certain he would do this a thousand times over to see that on his face again. He smiled against the warmth of Jack’s chest, sighing happily.

 

“I’m sure we can.”

 

-x-

 

Michael was pretty sure he'd never get used to flying.

 

A creature of the ocean, large open spaces were his home and so anything more confined than that was bound to cause a little discomfort. And for the most part, he was fine with it - buildings had doors and windows after all. But a pressurised tube hurling through the sky? Frankly Michael had no idea the science behind it and really didn't want to because all he knew was that every minute in this abomination felt like an hour. And when he was actually spending hours in the thing? Well, it was practically like a living hell.

 

On reflection, that was a little bit of an exaggeration. Jack, ever the empathetic boyfriend, had sensed his discomfort as soon as he had hopped on the plane and quickly maneuvered him between himself and Ryan for comfort’s sake. Ryan hadn’t stopped holding his hand all through takeoff (or rather, Michael crushing Ryan’s between his fingers) and Jack had been quick to kiss him when they had finally leveled out because _there, now that wasn’t so bad was it?_ Gavin, ever the ridiculous persona, had been quick to try and establish Michael as a newly joined member of the mile high club; when that hadn’t worked out for him (since a boner was the furthest thing from his mind right now) he had settled for a kiss that was far too dirty to be just called a kiss and if there was any way he could get a boner right now it was really trying. Ray and Geoff couldn't do as much, sitting with Gavin in the seats in front of them and not having the freedom of the aisle seat but the stories they were bouncing between the two of them were enough to keep Michael smiling through most of the flight.

 

All in all, his boys had kept him calm thorough the flight, a trait they kept up through the trip as Michael teetered between fascinated and terrified practically the whole time. God, Michael thought that their home city was busy - he couldn't breathe here without seeing another hundred people flash past and it was thrilling in a humbling way... Another way of saying that he managed to crush all five sets of hands of his boyfriends in a five day period, which was probably a record of some sorts. But it was so worth it to see the things that had seemed so far away and unreal; the fountains in front of Bellagio, Caesar's Palace, the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower barely a city across from each other. His eyes felt as wide as saucers and even Geoff commented on how damn excitable he seemed.

 

It was probably a good thing too; the excitement made him forget about the dryness of his skin, the itch in his throat that wouldn't quite leave and made falling asleep at night a mission in itself, leaving him clutching his head at night as his head pounded with headache. He was so _tired_ but his body wouldn’t let him sleep, breath quickening in his chest far too quickly as he started to fall apart at the seams. But this was a holiday dammit and he wasn’t going to worry his boyfriends or worse, make them cut this short because Jack’s eyes were shining so bright and Ray was away from a screen more often than not and Ryan was speaking so easy and who was he to ruin that? He could deal with this, he’d dealt with worse.. So any worries were deflected with excuses of ‘travel sickness’ as he swallowed back some drugs with a too dry mouth and carried on. And perhaps the symptoms were getting worse, that he was gargling salt water to try and soothe the ache in his bones as he stood over the bench at night. But he was stronger than that. He’d survived a life in solitude and surely he could survive a few more days.

 

Right?

 

“Michael?”

 

“What?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow at Ray who was strolling up to him with a bucket that had previously been filled with quarters.

 

“You were spaced out something wicked there, you sure you want to wait up for Geoff and Jack on the machines? Jack’s still got his lucky streak going and you’re looking tired as hell.”

 

“No, I’m fine.” Michael said, trying to keep annoyance out of his voice. “I said to Gavin that we’d go raid the smogsboard before we left anyway so I need to wait.”

 

“You sure-"

 

“ _Yes.”_ Michael snapped, hissing as his head pounded at the notion. He could see Ray raising an eyebrow at his reaction. "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry it's... Been a long day." Ray didn't seem convinced, but thankfully let it slide and walked over to where Jack and Geoff were gambling at the machines. Jack actually seemed to be done for the moment, standing up with a smile on his face as he handed Gavin his two buckets of won quarters with the Brit squawking enthusiastically once he realised how much Jack had won because holy shit how many people even bet Vegas like that? Geoff however, didn't seem to be having the same luck.

 

"These machines are rigged!" He yelled, throwing his bucket on the ground as the other five erupted into laughter "I fucking swear I haven't won a single penny since I sat down!"

 

"You won about ten bucks since I got here." Ryan pointed out, a smile threatening to break out on his face.

 

"Shut up you." Geoff bristled "you're not the one sitting next to Jack who's practically screwing Lady Luck in the ass right now while I'm sitting here on a completely fucking broken machine. I swear there's only one fuckng way into this machine." Jack then got a look on his face, and plucking a coin out of his own pile he stuck it into Geoff's machine and pulled the lever. Three in a row.

 

Needless to say, Geoff lost his fucking shit.

 

"Jack you fucking piece of shit!" He screeched, voice cracking, "come here I will actually fucking fight you get Lady Luck off your dick _right now._ " Michael couldn't even stand up, grasping the side of another machine as he laughed and laughed. Gavin looked even further along, not even able to look as he howled into Ryan’s chest. Geoff literally charged at Jack after that, half tackling the guy who easily lifted Geoff off his feet and sometimes Michael forgot that for a cuddly bear Jack was god damn strong. Geoff seemed to have reached the end of his tantrum pretty quickly after that though, staring at Jack with a forlorn look.

 

“You have no idea how much I hate you right now.”

 

“I think I have a bit of an idea.” Jack replied, smiling.

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

“But you love me anyway.”

 

“Unfortunately.” Geoff replied, even though the smile on his face said the complete opposite, the softness of it contrasting so drastically with his previous outburst even though he still seemed to be catching his breath. Then again, Michael had never seen an outburst from the guy last more than five minutes and the effects last for more than ten; he was just so easy going and as Jack put him back on his feet to lace their hands together Michael could already feel the previous tension calming despite Gavin’s best efforts.

 

“So Jack managed to win the exact amount that you lost? You bloody lost the pot, didn’t you?”

 

“You’re a piece of shit, Gavin.” Geoff replied, rolling his eyes.

 

“I was just saying!” He insisted, bounding up next to the Gent. “Like, bugger me that was impressive.”

 

“Gavin, you do realise that he cooks your food right?” Ryan said, holding Ray’s hands lightly as they walked, “If you don’t want to find laxatives in your food I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.”

 

“Wot? I’m not doing anything!” He insisted, making Ray chuckle. He continued off on some tangent about how he was ‘just asking a few questions’ and they could just ‘sod off’ but Michael wasn’t listening. Even though it was well and truly nighttime as soon as they had walked out the doors the heat of the evening had hit the redhead like a brick wall. His head was spinning, his throat was dry and there was only one thing on his mind as he put one foot in front of the other.

 

_Water._

 

It’d been six days since they’d left; six days since he had last stepped foot into the ocean and he could feel the effect on his body. This form was hardy and he’d made it even more so from constant use, but it wasn’t normal. He was a creature of water but he hadn’t even touched the substance for days save for drinking and washing his hands. He was abusing deodorant and dry shampoo - he didn’t trust himself under a stream of water but this whole situation was ripping him apart.

 

_Water._

 

Even with meeting and falling in love with the guys in front of him he’d never been away from the ocean for more than a couple of days, and certainly not in this heat. He’d fallen into a process of heading ‘home’ for the night every now and then, walked home by Jack and occasionally Ryan who would kiss him so sweetly on the cheek and when they disappeared from sight he would dive into the water. That transformation was always a relief, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch until he was diving down to skim along the bottom of the bay, darting around fish and letting everything roll off his back like water.

 

_Water water water-_

 

“Michael, are you okay?” Ryan said, giving him a concerned look as the six of them bundled into the lift inside their hotel. He waved off Ryan’s concern but he couldn’t even open his mouth to talk because it felt like his mouth was gummed together and his vision was still spinning.

 

“You don’t look so good boi.” Gavin said, frowning. “You didn’t have any bevs without me did you?”

 

“No no.” Michael said, shaking his head. “I’m just tired.”

 

“Thats what you told me half an hour ago and tired people don’t go that pale.” Ray said, narrowing his eyes.

 

“Look Michael, I think you might be coming down with something.” Jack said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t I just run you a bath-”

 

_-waterwater **waterwater-**_

 

“No, I’ll run my own bath.” Michael said. “I just need some time alone too, just to try and relax. If I’m actually sick.” He tacked on awkwardly at the end.

 

“If you say so.” Jack said, but the uncertainty was still in his voice as they stepped out of the elevator onto their floor. “If you need any help, just yell for us, right?”

 

“Of course.” _Yeah, right._ “I won’t be too long, okay?”

 

As soon as Geoff opened the door Michael shot inside, heading to the master bedroom and the ensuite inside. He was running on pure instinct now - heart slamming in his chest as he locked the door, turned on the tap ( _waterwaterwater)_ tearing his clothes off his body as the bath filled and he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted too.

 

He took one step into the bath and everything fell apart.

 

His knees buckled as he tumbled into the bath, biting back a yell because the water felt like acid on his body as it tried to transform. But there wasn’t enough room, still not enough fucking water and fuck, he was so screwed. He couldn’t complete his transformation because he couldn’t even get his head under the water let alone his body but deprived of its true form for so long his body couldn’t understand that. It was a clash of want and need, condition and desire and Michael could feel his body beginning to yo-yo between human and mer as the water lapped at his skin and scales as time began to stand still.

 

Where the fuck had it all gone wrong?

 

-x-

 

Michael could always remember the last time he’d talked to a mermaid.

 

There was a certain aura to a mermaid that was impossible to ignore, at least for Michael anyway. There was always a distinct quality to their appearance, things that strangers would say about him and would breath heatedly against his own lips in the dark of the corner of the club. The bright colour of their hair, the stunning nature of their eyes, the taste of salt that seemed to be permanently engraved into the grooves of their lips. But it was something more than that Michael could feel, because no woman he had met carried themselves with the same convoluted confidence that a mermaid did. They acted like they could break a man just by looking at them, and the fact that it was true just made it all the more worse.

  
When the woman walked up to him in the club, Michael was ready to punch her in the face because honestly? He had come to this club for a good time and it wasn't even midnight yet. He wasn't going to let some mermaid who just wanted to punch him up ruin his night. But... Well, he couldn't remember the last time a mermaid wanted to talk to him. Perhaps humouring her wouldn't be so bad?

 

“You’re different, aren’t you?”

 

Motherfucker, not even a hello. He knew this was a bad idea.

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re talking about?”

 

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about. Let's ignore this and get to the point” She said, smiling as she ran a hand down his chest. “You’ve been walking in and out of here for weeks now, and you haven’t left with a single person. No missing person reports, nothing and I've checked everywhere. Tell me, what do you actually _do_ in here on a night like this?”

 

“Fuck off, bitch.” he said flatly. Like hell he was going to let her know.

 

“Please, call me Lindsay. Although bitch is just as fitting, I suppose.” She replied, flashing Michael a smile with a flash of far too many piranha like teeth for his liking. "But how have you not fed while you’ve been up here? God, you get a bit of alcohol into their systems and they’re putty in your hands, don’t even know what hit them. Honestly their deaths are a bit anti-climatic in my opinion. Hardly feels like killing at all, its rather unsatisfying.”

 

“Do you really think I’m interested in hearing what the shit you’re saying?” Michael said, and he could practically feel the hackles rising on the back of his neck because the idea of killing the people he ghosted through had warped from an unlikely option to a monstrous impossibility because by god he may ghost through them but a single smile by one made him feel more alive than any woman in the sea ever had.

 

“Oh, but I know you are.” She said before her smile widened “You’re the ‘broken’ one, aren’t you? The one nobody wants to go near unless they get ‘infected’ or get ‘bad luck’ or get cursed by the sea gods because they were seen within a hundred metres of the abomination thats you-”

 

“Do you have a _fucking point_ to this story?” Michael exclaimed, a little too harshly for the situation as the mer-woman’s words struck a nerve.

 

“-bull shit like that.” She finished. “Look, believe it or not I don’t believe in that. I’m up here on land for a bunch of reasons, one of those being that it's so nice to get humans from the source. And it's quality over quantity too you know?"

 

"I don't."

 

"You should." She replied without missing a beat. "Look, if you want to come up here and find some human to be part of your fairytale romance go ahead. But think of this as words from one merperson to another-” The words made Michael’s lips curl back from his teeth, fingers flexing dangerously because she was acting like she knew best, she didn’t even know the _shit_ he had even gone through to keep himself alive “-you need to eat food Michael. _Real_ food. The stuff that's actually going to make you full for once and don’t lie to me and tell me you’re perfectly fine with fish because I know you aren’t.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t need your fucking help."

 

Lindsay just barked out a laugh at that.

 

“Oh god, I get it now. You do have some sort of _sympathy_ for them now, don’t you? That’s just going to end in trouble I can tell you that right now but it's pretty much too late for you.” She was sauntering forward with confidence lining her shoulders and voice, crowding Michael up against the wall as if she were the only creature of predator in their conversation. From any other angle it would look like any other couple in the club getting a little rowdy; one of Lindsay’s hands planted on the wall behind him as a single finger slid down Michael cheek. The action felt forced, horrible but he couldn’t shrug it off, couldn’t get away because Lindsay was crowding over him and the extra few inches of her heels made all the difference. “Don’t let yourself get too attached Michael.” She said, and she crooned his voice with that sugar sweet voice that slid down his spine like steel “Remember - you're not human. You wear their skin, but you are not human. You are the hunter and they are the prey and you can't ignore that any more than you can ignore the sea."

 

"Okay, thanks for the fucking memo, real great of you to come up here and let me know but I'm going to go now because I didn't even want your opinion on the first place so get the fuck _off_ me.” And with that he gathered his strength, shoving Lindsay back into the crowd as he steadied himself on his own two feet to give her a death glare. The look of stunned shock on Lindsay’s face after was reward all on its own, but that soon gave way to the oh so typical smile, the one that curled over her features to darken her eyes again.

 

"Fine then, see what I care. When you come running to me, just remember this and just how right I was. Because it’ll happen. And I’ll be waiting."

 

Michael didn't even give her the honour of a worded goodbye, just flipped her off as he walked right out of the door of the club. Didn't look back, didn't even finish his drink as he let the steady thrum of the bass fade into the stillness of the night. Typical that it had to happen at the beginning of the night too; if it had been any later at least he would have been able to enjoy a few songs. But he was a big boy - he'd learnt a long time ago that the world was a bitch to him on a good day and really he shouldn't have expected any less from a mermaid. God, they were all so stubborn and up themselves, never able to accept that holy shit, they might actually be wrong for once. Lindsay had barely blinked before carrying on as if she'd been right all along - so typical of a fucking mermaid.

 

On a good day maybe Michael would be willing to admit that description he just gave also fitted him just a little too well. But today was hardly one of those days and frankly? The fact he made it back to the water without talking to a single other person was all he could have asked for in that moment and for once in his life it was given to him without hassle.

 

Why couldn't it all be that easy?

 

-x-

 

“Please, just go away.” Michael said. He was pretty sure he could hear the murmuring of his other four boyfriends; he couldn’t be sure though because he was at a point where if he was hallucinating he wouldn’t even be surprised.

 

“Michael, _please_.”

 

“I can’t let you in.” Michael said again, and he could feel tears finally beginning to roll down his face because his body was screaming at him and his boyfriends couldn’t do anything, couldn’t even understand the pain that he was going through. Everything he had been holding up was crumbling in on him and he couldn't deal with it anymore  “I can’t please just go away for a little longer I’m fine I’m fine _I’m fine_ -”

 

"I'm sorry Michael."

 

Silence, and then a crash echoed through the room as the door was kicked open.

 

Michael let out an inhuman shriek, bird like with a metallic edge as he shrunk back from where the people at the door stood. Even as quickly as he hid his face under the lip of the bath he saw several figures standing at the door and the shakes that were making his body convulse were consuming him entirely. Fuck, they knew, they _knew_ they were going to hate him they were going to leave him-

 

"Michael?"

 

He didn't move, couldn't move because he didn't want to look up and see the thing that he'd been fucking dreading since he met these guys, fell in love with these guys. His legs twitched, the half formed fins weakly splashing water onto the floor from where he’d tried to tuck them into the bath. It hurt even more like this but his mind was running a million miles a minute and he couldn’t look up he couldn’t bare it-

 

"Michael, babe, are you there? Look up for me."

 

And that voice was so gentle he couldn’t help but feel _something_ spark in his throat as he looked up, blinking several times to try and focus his eyes. It didn’t take any focusing at all though to recognise the man looking back at him; he would recognise those broad shoulders and the impossible blue of those eyes any day of his life.

 

“Ryan?” He said quietly, the words whistling unsure between too-sharp teeth and he shut his mouth almost as soon as he opened it, not trusting his voice.

 

“Good, you’re in there.” He said. The was an un-sureness to his expression that Michael was quick to recognise, that in his vulnerable position he couldn’t help but recognise - but he wasn’t running away. He was still here. “I wasn’t sure what to expect.” Michael just nodded, afraid to trust his voice right now. “Can I touch you?” Ryan asked. Michael didn’t even wait a moment before nodding, and it made a soft smile cross Ryan’s face as his hand brushed against his curls and Michael could quite possibly cry at the treatment.

 

“The others?”

 

“We didn’t want to overcrowd you.” Ryan said. “I came in because you’ve known me the longest. We didn’t want to startle you, especially if you were… Feral.” The words made Michael wince - he hadn’t even tried to educate them, hadn’t told them the first thing about mermaids in fear he would expose himself unintentionally. They didn’t know he was always in control - that this was a freak of nature occurrence only caused by him suppressing his needs.

 

“Did we do something wrong?” Ryan asked.

 

“No- _No!”_ Michael said, perhaps a bit too harshly and it took him a minute to realise it was because he was still nervous, his body still in turmoil as his heart fluttered in his chest. “This was me, all me. Don’t blame yourselves for f-fuck’s sake.” He stuttered over the last words as he curled in on himself as another spasm of pain went through his body, his gills flaring uncomfortably. Ryan’s hands were instantly there, cradling his face and stroking through his hair.

 

“Can we help you Michael? Please, tell me we can help you.” And for the first time Michael could hear the panic in Ryan’s own voice - so caught up in his own worries, their reactions _to_ him that the thought that they might be worried _for_ him hadn’t even crossed his mind.

 

“W-water.” He croaked, whimpering as pain wracked through his body again. His hands flew up to fist in Ryan’s shirt; the half formed talons on his fingers made short work of the fabric which came away in ribbons in his hands. “More water please, please I need it so bad-”

 

“It’s okay Michael, we’ve got you.” Michael could see Geoff standing in the doorway now, staring at Michael with worry aging his features years. With the door open, he could see three more pairs of feet dangling off the end of the bed - the other three trying to give him space no doubt. Had they been waiting there for him this whole time? Somehow he didn’t doubt that, and it made a sort of peace settle in his chest even as Ryan stood to talk to Geoff, speaking in hushed tones. After a moment, he turned to Michael.

 

“If I carry you, can you survive a few minutes out of water?”

 

“Where are you taking me?”

 

“The pool.” Ryan replied. “The hotel has one on the first floor and it’s a twenty-four hour one so it’ll still be open. Considering its one in the morning its pretty unlikely that anybody will be using it - you think you’ll be alright until then?” Michael smiled awkwardly in response, quickly shutting his mouth once he realised that his piranha like teeth were on display.

 

“I’ve survived this long, another minute won’t kill me.” He joked, although his voice was strained. But the others seemed to take it in stride, Geoff walking out of the room to talk with the others. Not two minutes later he could hear the front door click shut.

 

“They’re going to make sure the coast is clear before we move you - we don’t want to keep you out of the water any more than we need to considering the state you’re in right now.” Ryan said before the younger man could ask. “I doubt many people would react kindly to seeing a mermaid around their hotel - that’s what you are, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I thought mermaids were only female though?”

 

“It’s a long story.” Michael replied,and he could feel panic starting to rise in his throat because were they only being so nice because they had ulterior motives? Fuck, he should have known, _fuck-_

 

“Michael, breathe.” Ryan said, “Take a breath, we’re not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.” Michael nodded, before taking the moment to breathe in deeply through his nose. His gills burned at the action, also trying to take in oxygen in their current state and the sensitive organs wanting to shrink back from the air. But Ryan’s hand was running through his curls, the older man kneeling down next to him and offhandedly Michael wondered how he could stand the feeling of the denim of his dad-jeans clinging to his skin. But the thought faded as he just made himself concentrate on the hand in his hair - it made the jolts of pain from his neck, waist, feet a little easier to bare, if he felt guilty every time Ryan’s hand tightened from his sounds of pain.

 

“It’s time to go.” Ryan said after a few long minutes, standing up.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Jack texted me.” He said, gently curling his arms around Michael’s body. “You ready?”

 

“As I’ll ever be.”

 

So softly Michael was picked up out of the water, cradled against Ryan’s chest and shifted until his head rested in the crook between Ryan’s arm and shoulder. Once comfortable, Ryan started moving, through the bedroom, out the door, Ryan pushing the elevator down button with his elbow as Michael squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the burning sensation attacking his gills and the agitated skin somewhere between scale and not.

 

“Wait, the elevator’s got to go down three levels before-”

 

“-Already covered.” Ryan said. “One of the others is on each floor, they should be able to deter anybody that’s trying to get on our lift.”

 

“And if they don’t?”

 

“They will.” Ryan said with a confidence that Michael really needed right now. “I mean, let’s be honest here. Gavin’s involved; as much as he fucks things up he always pulls through in the end doesn’t he?” The comment made Michael laugh as Ryan stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the first floor.

 

“I guess you’re right. Fucking dumbass.”

 

“That’s my Michael.”

 

The stench of chlorine wasn’t overly pleasant but by god the sight of the pool was as the two of them entered the room, Geoff waving them over. It was only a lap pool but he could hear water, he could _swim_ in that water and even though he could hear the others filling in behind he just wanted to get away, into the water because he needed this more than anything he could think of.

 

“Do you want me to do this in any way or-”

 

“Ryan please just let me get into the fucking pool.” He snapped. Thankfully the words came out as desperately as he felt and the older man, thank God, understood. Crouching down, he kissed Michael on the head before letting him fall the last half foot into the water.

 

Michael couldn’t think of a single moment he had been more happy to be in the water. Although he could feel the transformation happening more sluggishly than usual, hindered by the strange chemical balance of the water and how long it had been since he’d actually done this, it was happening. It was finally happening and with a kick of his powerful tail he shot through the water, taking what felt like the first deep breath he’d taken in weeks as pure, sweet unadulterated oxygen finally seemed to reach the depths of his lungs. He twisted and turned, enjoying the sensation of his hair flaring out as much as his fins as the grit and grime of the past few days finally washed away, his scales flashing blue green in the fluorescent light of the hall.

 

By the time he surfaced again he could finally feel the pain he had been tolerating for the last week finally subsiding, dissipating in the water around him to leave him with only one loose end - his boyfriends. He could feel their gazes trained on him and honestly he didn’t blame them for it considering how much of an oddity he was right now, to seriously undermine the situation. It didn’t help the feeling of just how exposed he felt right now though; tentatively he swum over to the side of the pool to rest in front of them.

 

“Uh, hi.” He said, not really sure how to start the conversation. ‘Ta-da?’ ‘Hope you like fish?’

 

“Feeling better?” Ryan asked.

 

“A lot.” He said. “Thank you, by the way. I appreciate it.”

 

“Well, what were we supposed to do?” Ray said. “Let you become jerky in the bathroom? Nuh-uh.”

 

“You say that like I wouldn’t be delicious.” Michael teased, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Let’s be honest, if I was going to eat somebody it’d be Jack.” Ray said. “So much meat, its practically two for the price of one.”

 

“I will punch you if you even try.” Jack said.

 

“Oh, you really think so?”

 

“I’m practically twice the size of you; I could punch you into next _week_ if I wanted to.”

 

“Please, you saw a sad kitten in the street today and asked if we could take it home.” Ray replied. “I hardly think you’d have the heart to take me in a fight.” The rest of them laughed as Jack mumbled something to the tune of ‘you don’t know that’ even though in all honesty they really did. Even Jack did, if the smile on his face was anything to go on. The laughter died out, settling into something a lot more comfortable than before.

 

“So.” Geoff said. “You’re a mermaid.”

 

“Merperson, yeah.” Michael said. “Surprise?”

 

“Surprise alright.” Gavin piped up, eyes just about as wide as saucers. “Bloody hell boi, how did you manage to pull this off?”

 

“Well, getting caught wasn’t really part of the plan.” Michael said, scratching the back of his head.

 

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Jack asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

 

“Well maybe if the time came up and it seemed appropriate and none of you were pissed off… No.” He admitted after a moment, eyes going downcast at the crestfallen expression that almost was immediately shared by the group.

 

“Why not?” Gavin asked. “Don’t you trust us?”

 

“It’s not that.” Michael insisted, huffing as he let his tail kick idly in the water behind him as he tried to ignore Gavin's tactless question. “Its more… I just don’t trust people. Humans, anybody in general. Nice people aren’t exactly a, uh, common thing in my life. Mermaids don’t like me.” The way he was phrasing it right now made him wince - it made him seem so pathetic and he knew they would only be able to see him with pity now and that wasn’t what he wanted, never what he wanted.

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s a long story.”

 

“We have time now.” Jack said gently. “We just want to understand Michael.”

 

“Even though I’m a monster?” Michael asked, spitting out the words somewhat bitterly.

 

“Boi, you’re not a monster-”

 

“-but I am!” Michael snapped, with too much emotion in his voice. “I’ve got claws and teeth and a fucking _tail_ instead of legs and if I wasn’t even more of a freak of nature than normal I would be eating you all for breakfast and if you were chicks you’d bend over backwards to make me do it. If that doesn’t make me a _monster_ Gavin, please fucking tell me because I’m not sure what does.” Michael had never seen the Brit become speechless before, but apparently there was a first time for everything and Gavin in stunned silence was quick to shut his trap.

 

“And is that a bad thing?” Ryan said.

 

“I could hurt you.” Michael said flatly. “And I can take care of myself.”

 

“We know that baby.” Geoff said. “But there’s a difference between one of us keeping an eye out for you, and all six of us keeping an eye out. And lets be honest here; you knew this wasn’t a good idea, didn’t you?”

 

“It was!” Michael insisted. After Ryan raised an eyebrow at him and he got a variety of quizzical looks he rolled his eyes. “Okay look, I _may_ have had an idea it wouldn’t have been comfortable but I can deal with that.”

 

“Boi, how was that just ‘uncomfortable’?” Gavin asked.

 

“Okay then fucking smartass, you tell me how the fuck I was supposed to tell you guys then! ‘I’d rather have all my toenails pulled out then go to Vegas?’ I don’t fucking think so.’”

 

“That sounded fine to me."

 

Michael looked two seconds away from making the water boil off around him, but he stopped and the breath he took looked like it took every ounce of effort he could muster to take and calm himself down just a bit - and only a bit at that.

 

“But see, thats the problem” Michael started, words slow and even and far too closely held “this wasn’t a case of me going along with what everybody else wanted. It’s what I wanted. For me. For _us._ Because believe it or not I actually love you fuckers and I wanted this anniversary to be fucking special and considering how god damn excited these two-” he jabbed a couple of fingers in Jack and Ray’s direction, the control on his words falling apart “-were to be coming out, how the hell was I supposed to be like ‘no fuck you all I’d rather stay down by the fucking ocean so when I need to fucking run away again I can just do an on point fucking pirouette into the water?”

 

“You think we wouldn’t care if you were _safe?”_ Ryan finally snapped, blue eyes sharp as his muscles tensed and for the first time since he’d met the man Michael was _scared_. “I don’t want to see you like this again. Michael I have never seen somebody in that much pain before. You were _dying -_ don’t tell me you weren’t! - and I’m not going to sit around and just let you do that to yourself again. You have no idea what it was like to hold you like that. I thought I was going to break you.” And it hit Michael like a truck when he realised there were _tears_ in his eyes, the man was shaking where he stood and it choked the air from his lungs. God, he couldn’t _imagine_ what Ryan was feeling right now.

 

He was broken out of his own thoughts by Geoff kneeling down in front of Michael, settling so they were about face to face. The Gent’s face was so soft now, compassion in every inch and the expression reminded Michael of that night back in the pizza place when he’d met Geoff for the first time. How that near instinctive need to impress the man had kicked in from the first hello, first handshake and it wasn’t just an authority thing - it was the respect that the man seemed to demand in his eyes despite him being such a left field character. He was outside the box, unusual in a way that Michael could almost relate to and that made him happy in a way he struggled to describe.

 

Tattooed hands ruffled the mop of hair on his head and it made Michael laugh despite himself, boisterous and true. "Look, I'm not going to lie and say you should've told us sooner.” Geoff said, smiling despite the serious message of his words. “It doesn't take a genius to see that everybody's assholes to mermaids and we didn't really let you know otherwise. I mean fuck man, there’s signs and shit everywhere that makes out your sort to be the fucking devil. You were probably scared shitless even thinking about us finding out..”

 

“You don’t know the half of it.” Michael replied, sighing. Geoff nodded in reply, and there was only understanding in his actions, his gaze as he continued to stroke his hand through his curls, gently prising apart the knots.

 

“What I'm trying to say is that we love you and we want you to be happy... Which is the worst fucking cliche in the book but it's true. You wouldn't be here with us unless we loved you as much as we do and seeing you like this hasn't changed that. Fuck, if anything it just makes me love you a little bit more because seriously, could I have a cooler fucking relationship right now?" A lopsided smile was etched into his features, genuine in the way it pronounced the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and Michael couldn’t help but mirror the genuine expression as he felt tears budding in his eyes. There was genuine love in his words - the sort that he had only heard between couples huddled under bus shelters and walking along the beach, the sort the swaddled each word in care like a present. "You’re ours Michael. You’re ours and we love you so much. Honestly I can't remember not loving you anymore and I really don't want to. Our lives are so much better off with you in it, and don't you ever forget that."

 

"...Thank you." Michael said simply, not able to form any other words. He took a moment to sniffle, wiping the tears away from his face as emotion overtook him for a moment.

 

"Welcome." Geoff replied. "Although don't get me wrong, this isn’t some ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ shit. We're going to be talking to you a bit over the next few days. Some of those conversations are going to be as long as dicks and you’re probably not going to enjoy some of them but you are going to sit through every one of them because we’re going to learn everything about you inside out.”

 

“Yes dad.” Michael said, rolling his eyes despite the smile on his face.

 

"Also Gavin's going to ask you a lot of stupid questions." Ray added in, smiling. "Glad I'm not you, just saying."

 

"No I'm not!" Gavin insisted. "I'm just going to ask the bloody important questions none of you tossers will have the balls to ask!"

 

"Like?"

 

"What do you mean, like?" The Brit asked, narrowing his eyes.

 

"Gavin you always have a fucking stupid question question lined up." Michael piped up, grinning.

 

“My questions are not stupid!”

 

“Then fucking lay it on me!”

 

"Well, what if your legs don't know they're legs?" Gavin asked. "Like do you end up just like falling on the ground and wriggling around or what?"

 

"Oh my god Gavin, legs don't just forget they're legs." Michael said, bursting into laughter. "What sort of question even is that, they're fucking _legs_!"

 

"Well don't your legs have to forget about beings legs to become a tail?" Gavin insisted.

 

"They change Gavin, they don't fucking forget. Legs don't even have a brain."

 

"But what if _you_ forget then?"

 

"Hey Gavin." Michael said, stroking up the Brit's leg with a few fingers before holding onto his shins and grinning a fox's grin at him. "Shut the fuck up."

 

And with that he heaved up with all his strength as he threw Gavin backwards over his head, the Brit screeching something incoherently as he hit the water with a splash. The look of absolute horror and childish betrayal on his face as he surfaced had Michael laughing even harder than before, swimming over to Gavin in a single fluid motion.

 

"Wot if your legs don't know they're legs?" Michael said, swimming around the Brit as he mocked him in a nasal voice. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to slam dunk you into the ocean, you have _no idea_." He could hear the others murmuring behind him but he was more focused on the Brit in front of him, the way that his eyes followed his form with a sort of baited breath - a fear was there, yes, but it was revered. It was the respect one would pay a terrible, beautiful wild animal and Michael strangely felt himself preening under the attention. Perhaps it was the fact that it was just Gavin - Gavin who he would wrestle with on the floor when there was only one slice of pizza left, who didn’t know the meaning of ‘personal space’ and he knew there was nothing for him to fear about that.

 

"But Michael." Gavin whined. "Michael you're being _mean_."

 

"And you're being an asshole so I think we're equal here." Michael retorted. "Seriously Gavin-”

 

“ ** _Go!"_**

 

And suddenly it didn't matter because there were four more bodies cannonballing into the water around them, making Gavin shriek as he was pulled back down into the water. Michael could feel the flurry of activity under the water, saw Jack break the surface first and suddenly he was laughing because holy shit he had practically no beard and he looked ridiculous. Geoff had managed to get Gavin into some sort of headlock while Ray had clambered on top of Ryan; Michael couldn’t tell if the older man was unimpressed or amused but he had hooked his hands around Ray feet anyway as he grinned at the others.

 

“You guys realize there aren’t any towels in here?”

 

“Well we do now.” Ray said, resting his chin on his hand as Ryan tried to stop the elbow digging into his head.

  
“Well honestly I didn’t give a shit either way.” Jack said, swimming over to Michael. “We can always improvise - this is more fun, anyway.” Michael’s tail ran over Jack’s legs; he expected a recoil but Jack only laughed before running his fingers along the fin as it passed in a way that had no right to feel as good as it did.... Well, he didn’t really have any experience with somebody touching his fins period; it was an act that he didn’t expect to feel as intimate as it did but considering the only person having even seen them had been him he could understand it in retrospect.

 

That was how they stayed, swimming and playing until the early hours of the morning until the energy faded away. Until Geoff and Jack had dozed off on a bench, tucked into each other like roosting birds. Until Ryan and Ray hauled themselves out of the water, Ray trying not to doze off as Ryan made circles in the water with his feet. Until Gavin gave up on swimming entirely and was just holding onto Michael instead as he did lazy laps of the pool, the Brits head resting on Michaels shoulders. Not until then did Michael finally pull himself out of the water, scales retracting as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had been shucked off earlier. While the pants were his size, if a bit tight (probably Ray's) he knew as soon as he pulled on the shirt that it was Ryan's. It hung off his frame in an almost comical matter, and it smelt like the man in a comforting way. If the way that Ryan was smiling at him when he turned around, a sly and satisfied grin not unlike a fox eyeing up a fat hen, he didn't mind either.

 

"See something you like?"

 

"Always." Ryan said. "Thought you might've gathered that by now."

 

"Well I wasn't expecting to see you eyeing me up at three in the morning." Michael retorted.

 

"Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?" Ryan replied, quirking an eyebrow.

 

"You're a fucking dork." Michael said, laughing. "Holy shit." Ryan laughed along as well, his voice a deep baritone and too soon it faded into a comfortable silence.

 

"Hey Ryan... Thanks." Michael said, thumbing the hem of Ryan's shirt. Looking at him to make sure he wasn't going to be interrupted, he continued. "I know I met Gavin first, but you were the first person I really talked to, you know? And just everything tonight - it shouldn't have happened, I know that, but you make it a fucking lot more easy to deal with and I just... Don't know what to say?" The end of his sentence trailed off awkwardly, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to finish it. But Ryan just leaned over, squeezing his hand.

 

"You know, I always knew there was something different about you. I didn’t expect, well, this different" he said, gesturing at the pool and making Michael smile "but still different, you know? I mean that first night we went and got coffee there was a strange awkwardness to your words. Even now it shows through, like you’re expecting somebody to just butt in and carry on without you. And there was this weird disconnect between you and the world - I mean, I can’t believe you’d never had lava cakes before.”

 

“Probably never again too.” Michael said, momentarily looking queasy, “I really shouldn’t have had that many.” Ryan chuckled.

 

“I always knew there was something different, but I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I hoped maybe if I waited you’d open up - you’d already opened up so much already and it just felt like it was going to be a matter of time, really. And yes, I _really_ wish that you’d told me earlier before you nearly died in my arms. But what’s done is done. Now, I just want to learn as much about you as I can because... Fuck Michael, you looked beautiful, you know that right?”  Michael didn’t trust himself to reply but the bright red on his cheeks said everything Ryan needed to know. The man just smiled softly, pulling up Michael’s hands to sweep his lips over the knuckles and Michael flushed two shades deeper. “I’m so in love with you, and I want to know everything about you, babe. I want to know where you come from, what you want to do with your life, I want to know what the last thing you think of when you fall asleep at night. If you’re willing to give it, I’m willing to hear it.”

 

“Only if you do the same for me.” Michael said. He was trying to sound cocky but the words just came out quiet, revered in the way that Michael got sometimes when he realised that the men around him loved him unconditionally - and at no other time had that been proved more than today.

 

“Deal.” Ryan said. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Gaaaaaaaay.” Ray murmured sleepily from where he lay against Ryan’s side, making the other two crack up laughing. And as they woke the others, trudging up the stairs to squish into bed together ("Michael you are not sleeping out on the couch after that shit god damnit!" "Well you're not sleeping out there either Geoff." "Fine then, none of us will!" " _Fine_!") Michael couldn't stop himself from smiling.

 

He was safe, he was loved - what more could he ask for?

 

-x-

 

The club was still so busy.

 

Despite the late hour the mood in the club was electric, the bass making the very floor shake as people moved. Bodies rubbed and ground against each other in a dance that rolled through the crowd like waves in the ocean that not for the first time reminded Michael of the reason he kept coming back to this club in the first place. It was still so crowded in the place it took Michael a good few minutes to get a hand on the bar, much less wave down a bartender to order himself a couple of shots with a vulgar name he didn’t even blink at. Quick fuck? Cum shot? Something like that - all that mattered was that it was dirt cheap and it slid down his throat like a dream. He swayed with the beat of the club as the alcohol hit his stomach to mix with the others he’d had before, hips rolling with the music; he couldn't control himself and frankly he didn't want to. He loved this - he loved the vibe that pulled him out of his own head.

 

He didn’t even notice initially as hands slid onto his hips, smooth and sensual as they gripped firmly at the bone beneath the skin. Before Michael even consciously thought about it he knew what to do, and with a content hum he slid his body up against the one behind him, their hips easily finding a matched rhythm with the song. His head lulled back to rest on the other man's shoulder, Michael’s eyes fluttering shut.

 

"You look gorgeous like this boi." Gavin murmured, only just being heard as his thumbs rubbed circles into Michael’s hips. Michael only hummed in agreement, tilting his head up to catch the Brit's lips in a heated kiss as their hips gyrated against each other in a heady rhythm. His lips tasted like alcohol, some fruity concoction Gavin always liked ordering when he came out with him. Michael gasped as Gavin bit at his lip before biting right back - he smiled as he saw Gavins eyes fly wide open, laughing deep in his chest. The sound quickly turned to a moan though as Gavin ground particularly hard against him.

 

"Can't deal with not being on top of me, can you boi?" Michael teased, panting.

 

"Stop liking being on the bottom so much them, love." Gavin purred in reply "I'm not trying that hard boi, you just can't help yourself."

 

"Bullshit."

 

"Ladies please you're both pretty, now go get a room." Ray said, pushing through the crowd to stand beside the two of them. Michael just rolled his eyes - he was pretty sure the effect was mostly lost on Ray though considering he was still red cheeked and getting his breath back.

 

“Only if you’re coming with us.” Gavin said.

 

“We haven’t even left yet Gavin, fucking hell.” Michael said, elbowing the Brit in the side and making him squark.

 

“But _Michael.”_

 

Then, through the crowd Michael saw a face that was all too familiar.

 

He thought the phrase ‘sobered up immediately’ was just that, a phrase that was thrown about with little meaning behind the words but as soon as Michael saw the familiar red head he felt the alcohol’s influence rush out of him fast enough to give him whiplash. It wasn’t even that he had just seen her too - no, she was making a deliberate beeline for him and okay, what the _fuck_ did she want?

 

“Michael?” Ray said. “Who is this?”

 

“Give me a moment.” Michael said, pulling away from under Gavin’s arm which had gone limp around him. He knew not to hold Michael back when he got into a mood like this - it was a fucking good skill to learn too considering the man look

 

“What the fuck do you want?” Michael sneered, staring up at the woman with bared teeth that didn’t even try to hide their wicked nature as they winked sharp in the dim lights. Lindsay went to open her mouth but Michael cut her off. “-No, you are not speaking now. My _boyfriends_ are here and the last thing I want is to need to rip you apart on the dance floor because somebody thought they could be cocky and get away with taking them. If you want me, tell me. _Without_ speaking.” Surprisingly enough Lindsay actually complied, point at the two of them before pointing at the exit sign.

 

“You want to talk to me alone?”

 

She nodded. There was no ill intent in the action from what Michael could see - it was unnerving if the man was being perfectly honest with himself. He turned to the two Lads.

 

“You got your phone Ray?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’ll text you what happens if I can’t find you. If you get worried, call me but don’t come out after me unless I tell you to. Seriously.”

 

“She’s a mermaid, isn’t she?” Ray said, teeth gritted. Michael had made no light of the treatment he’d gotten from others of his kind but there was a difference between telling somebody of that hatred and then seeing it second hand on their face. Ray looked about ready to take her out, and coming from a man who was usually so placid Michael wasn’t sure whether to feel touched or terrified. Instead he only nodded in reply, before walking towards Lindsay with a steeled face, gesturing for her to lead the way.

 

The sea breeze hit them as soon as they walked out the door, the cool night air instantly sending goose flesh running up michaels arms . It sobered him up that last part the realisation hadn't and it didn't take long to start staring down Lindsay unashamedly with hard eyes.

 

"Speak. And make this quick before we get on the news for all the wrong reasons." But at the words Lindsay didn't retaliate, didn't even smile as she looked him in the eye.

 

"Look Michael, shut up and let me speak for a minute." Lindsay said, the words suggesting a bite that just wasn't there. "I just wanted to than- let you know what's happened with me recently."

 

Well, this wasn’t what he was expecting.

 

Nether the less, he didn’t quite trust Lindsay’s words right now, and he didn’t stop his arm crossing over his chest as he stared back at the woman in front of him. He didn’t hide the distaste in his eyes; couldn’t even if he wanted to. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions too, and that wasn’t going to change. If the calculating look in Lindsay’s was anything to go by, she hadn't expected much better.

 

“And why exactly did you think I would care?” He said.

 

“You’re not even giving me the benefit of the doubt here?” Lindsay replied incredulously.

 

“I don’t think I have any reason to.”

 

“Well, why don’t you give me five minutes to-”

 

“-What, wrap me around your little finger and then stomp all over me. _Hah._ I don’t think so.”

 

"Would you stop lipping back for five seconds?" Lindsay snapped "And before you even start I'm not about to eat your precious boyfriends okay? I can't, you've claimed them. My voice won't even effect them. God, you’ve been around them and you want them so much they all _reek_ of you how often do you guys have sex I can smell it on them a mile away!"

 

"Don't fuck around with me thats not how it works-"

 

“-It does, damnit!” Lindsay snapped. "Just because you don't know basic mermaid biology doesn't mean you can fucking swear me out!"

 

"Oh I wonder who's fault that is." Michael sneered. “It’s not like I had  to learn this shit on my own or anything. Of _course_ not.”

 

"Don't act like that’s all my fault!"

 

"Well you sure as hell aren't fucking innocent."

 

"I'm also standing here now talking to you like a human being and showing you some respect. Do you see anybody else doing that? Does that mean _nothing_ to you?"

 

"Does it even matter if-"

 

"I'm not going to eat your boyfriends. How many time do I have to say that? I don’t want to, I can’t even if I did. And even if I was going to, _which I’m not_ , why the hell would I want to prove it to you?"

 

She had a point.

 

Sensing his shock Lindsay pressed on, seeing a chance to actually get in a word edgeways. "Look, I know you’re not going to believe me but these past few months stuff has... Changed. I've spent more time up here and I’ve learnt a lot, done a few things. People seem a bit more interesting and I haven't eaten for about a year and a half… I thought you might be interested in hearing that." It was the closest to a thank you Michael had ever heard from any mermaid and it had Michael grasping for straws - because really, what was he supposed to say to that?.

 

"I guess you're welcome then." He settled on after a moment, eyeing the woman up. This was nice and all, but really it just seemed a little too convenient, in his opinion. After all, she'd basically done a hundred and eighty degree turn around on her stance. Going from delighting in the kill to practically repulsed, it seemed far too out of the blue to have just happened... But why?

 

"Lindsay?"

 

The name broke the two out of their stare down, and they turned to see a blonde walking towards the two of them with arms wrapped around herself. While dressed immaculately for the club, with a tasteful red and white dress that clung to her, the same couldn’t be said about her dressing for the weather and it showed in the gooseflesh that was cropping up along the expanse of her arms. She looked relieved, if a bit pissed off.

 

"Barb, what are you doing out here? I told you I'd only be a minute."

 

"You didn't tell me jack shit." Barbara replied, her tone light “And have you heard the music in there? If you said anything I wouldn’t hear it unless you were right next to me.”

 

“But I was!”

 

“You went to get a drink and didn’t come back.” She replied, laughing a little. All the time though Michael could feel her eyes on him, looking him over with eyes that betrayed nothing and as a result disturbed Michael immensely. “Are you Michael?”

 

“What’s it to you?”

 

“Lindsay’s told me a lot about you.” Barbara said, smiling, before offering a hand for him to shake. “My name’s Barbara.”

 

“Nice to meet you?” Michael replied, unable to keep the questioning tone out of his voice because _what the hell._ But then Barbara’s perfume wafted over to him, floral in nature but with something more to it. Something more natural, something that smelt… of the sea. He could see Lindsay’s face flush as he realised just what he was sensing; his lips curled into a satisfied smile. Seemed like it wasn’t quite the random realisation he’d been lead to think it was.

 

“A pleasure to meet you too.” Barbara replied. “Now as much as I’d love to stand around and talk, I am freezing and Lindsay here said that we’d go get fish and chips before heading home and our favorite shop closes in a few minutes. We should meet up sometime though - I have a feeling once you two get over yourselves you’ll have a ball together.

 

“Hey!” The two of them said in unison, glaring at each other immediately afterwards. But Michael could feel a smile playing at his lips and there was a softness to Lindsay’s expression that was at the very least endearing as she slid up next to the blonde, twining their hands together. Perhaps Barbara was right…

 

“See you next time you’re here?” Lindsay asked, gesturing back at the bar. “Maybe I can teach you a bit more about mermaid shit.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” Michael replied, smiling. “Later.”

 

“Later.” Lindsay replied, turning to go.

 

“Wait, Lindsay?”

 

“What?”

 

“You know, you’re pretty cool to have put up with my bullshit just then.” Michael said, the words coming easier now.

 

“Think of it as me paying you back for all the bullshit you’ve been through. Sort of.” Lindsay replied, smiling back at him before waving and disappearing around the street corner, leaving Michael standing alone on the sidewalk. He could hear the bass of the club thudding behind him, faint as it paled in comparison to the spread of the night sky up above.

 

He knew when he turned around and walked back into the club his boyfriends would be waiting for him, with open arms and concerned words that he would have only dreamed of only a few years ago. That there was a bed for him up on a hill, shared between five men that made the ocean’s beauty look faint. That despite his flaws, both perceived and true, they accepted him for everything he was. And it hadn’t been easy - there were still times when he couldn’t quite articulate what he was thinking, when his innate sense of loneliness crippled him, when he had to make the choice between himself and his boyfriends and he chose the wrong one (Geoff was still pissed off about the fact that Michael didn’t tell him fly spray was just as bad as the anti-mermaid spray they used in some shops and had chosen to suffer rather than tell them). But every time his boyfriends were there to help him up, whether it was with kind words, a helping hand or a wake up call. He moved on - he moved on with _them_.

 

In the distance he could hear the ocean against the shore, faint in its call to Michael. It was a tug at the heart strings, not a demand but a nudge in the right direction - a suggestion of returning that held no malice tonight and rarely ever did anymore. Nowadays instead of just walking him ‘home’ Jack and sometimes Ryan would accompany him on his swims, sitting on the rickety old dock as Michael wove between the pillars sunk into the water. Occasionally the others would too and since the weather was warmer too they would even come for a swim occasionally. Gavin in particular seemed to have a fascination with his tail, always running his hands along his scales and fins, although quite frankly some of the others weren’t much better. Ryan had become somewhat fascinated himself with Michael’s voice, encouraging the man to sing in a way he’d never realised he wanted to and it was rare now to not hear him singing from some corner of the house. Even the songs were different than before - when it had once been melancholy songs about the sea gods that had been just as much cursing them as praising them now it was sea shanties and pop music that got stuck in his head and nobody was complaining when he switched from one to the other.

 

Geoff, surprisingly, had been the one to really look out for Michael though. Geoff was the one who learnt all his ticks - how long he should be staying out of water versed how long he would push himself to, what foods would disagree with him, even what places were ‘safe’ for Michael to go into although with several recent advances regarding mermaid rights it didn’t seem like it would be long until that wouldn’t be a worry anymore. The few mermaid individuals that shared similar experiences to Michael were coming out of the clockwork, speaking out and while Michael wasn’t quite comfortable taking the spotlight on this particular topic he was more than happy to see the signs and sprays disappearing slowly from public places.

 

(Perhaps what was most interesting was later on meeting up with Lindsay and her telling him about the act of mermaids choosing mates; that while there were no rules there was no guarantee that the man or woman you chose to sleep with would catch your scent, wear it like a badge and a warning to all other mermaids around. That some chose to call it ‘soulmates’ because it was so fickle - Lindsay scoffed at the definition though - but a mermaid mated for life and Michael knew he would be no different. Lindsay went on to explain that eventually a mermaid would catch their partner’s scent in return, although the process was usually slow and faint. The breeze caught Lindsay’s hair; Michael smelt salt and maple syrup and didn’t say a word but his smile said all Lindsay needed to know.)

 

He could return to the water right now - he knew as long as he told Ray and Gavin they would be fine with it, if a bit disappointed. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to go back to his boyfriends - he wanted to go back to Ray who would kick his ass in Mario Kart and he’d enjoy every minute of it, go back to Jack who would play with his hair like it was made of spun gold. He wanted to go back to Geoff who had mapped every inch of his skin with his fingers, to Ryan who would talk with him late at night until his eyes fluttered shut and Gavin who got him into this wonderful, wonderful mess. And the best part? He could. And he would.

 

With a smile on his face and a song on his lips he turned and walked back into the club, back into the music that moved like the swell of the sea and back into the embrace of those who had calmed the storms inside him and made him whole.

 


End file.
